Fate of Legends
by n0mster
Summary: The Fifth Holy Grail War ended in a Pyrrhic victory for Shirou, faced with the loss of all he held precious and dumped into an entirely new world, Shirou has to struggle in the absence of his abandoned ideals and try to rebuild a life for himself. But war looms on the horizon and Fate has not lost its interest in Shirou yet. Shirou/Multi
1. Chapter 0: Prologue

**Disclaimer: Fate/Stay Night and League of Legends are the properties of Type-Moon and Riot Games respectively.**

**Chapter 0: Prologue**

He was falling apart.

His every movement agony, his every thought a torment.

It seemed an impossibility for the bloodied tattered form to continue, for it even to be alive, but still it defied death, its many wounds bound shut by glittering scales.

Only its inhuman will kept the figure moving as it staggered towards the colossal abomination in the distance – the deformed Great Holy Grail bearing the reincarnating Angra Mainyu – which cast the cave in a hellish light and was surrounded by a sickly scarlet aura that curled ominously.

The silence was deafening, only the creaking noises of distant gargantuan mechanisms and a constant ringing filled its head.

'_What was I supposed to do?_' Flickers of thought rasped through a desolate wasteland filled with innumerable swords as harsh scraping noises echoed the figure's movements.

The shadows before it suddenly boiled and a jolt of adrenaline surged through its veins as the cogs of his mind sped up. His gaze was greeted by flailing tendrils of shadow surrounding a pair of embracing sisters; one of them limp and lifeless, held strangely tender in the arms of the other whose face was a rictus of distress.

'_Ah, I remember_.'

Gathering up the fragmenting pieces of his mind, Shirou sped towards the pair, almost absently dodging the shadowy tentacles which continued to thrash about, mimicking the anguish of their creator.

A few tendrils stabbed into him, but he shrugged off the shallow injuries – his body was made of swords after all. He had intended to use everything he had to destroy the Greater Grail, but there was something more important for him to use the last of his Prana on.

"**Trace On."**

The image of a jagged iridescent dagger coalesced in his mind and just as he neared the sobbing shape of Sakura cradling her fallen sister, the Anti-Thaumaturgy Noble Phantasm, Rule Breaker formed in his hand.

Jumping over a low-swinging shadow, Shirou rolled to a stop and in a smooth motion, lightly pricked the almost catatonic white-haired girl, dispelling her link with the unborn Servant currently attempting to incarnate itself. Sakura immediately fell limp and Shirou only had a few desperate moments to grab the falling sisters and lay them gently to the ground. Even as he did so, he distantly felt something latch onto him, but he quickly dismissed it as part of his imagination.

Around them, the shadowy maelstrom slowed and ceased, and in the unnatural calm after, the battered but still alluring form of a purple-haired woman appeared before Shirou. The pair was silent as they quickly scanned the two unconscious girls and it was with a slight lightening of his heart that Shirou concluded that both would live; Sakura was relatively unharmed and Rin's Magic Crest had already stopped her bleeding.

"Rider, can you bring them to safety? I'll finish this." Shirou's voice was hoarse, almost metallic and he had to strain to get the words out.

The Servant of the Mount's eyes were once again covered, yet Shirou could feel her gaze search his before she nodded once and gathered the unconscious sisters into her arms.

It was with a grateful smile that Shirou turned back to the black pillar topped with the twisted embryo, his thoughts surprisingly coherent as he considered his choice of actions, before unexpectedly the silence was broken once more.

"Come back to us."

Shirou almost didn't recognize the voice without its usual sultry tone, and when he turned to reply, Rider was already sprinting away as quickly as she could without harming her charges.

His spirits slightly buoyed, but the rush of adrenaline already dissipating, his body began to weigh even heavier on him and the aches and pains were returning with a vengeance. Just as he was about to turn back, something sparkling in the earth caught his eye. Kneeling down with some effort beside the dust-covered object, he picked up the object and hefted its surprising weight in his hand.

The Jeweled Sword of Zelretch, the Mystic Code he had Traced for Rin in her confrontation of Sakura. A single large oblong crystal knapped roughly into the blade for a short sword created by the feared Wizard Marshal Zelretch. Its inner workings were beyond Shirou's understanding, but from what Rin had managed to pummel into his head, it was capable of firing off a stream of destructive light by harnessing Prana channeled through the Kaleidoscope– what it did in essence was create a tiny opening to the same area for an infinite number of parallel worlds then draw in all of the place's Prana in order to power the Mystic Code.

'_Rin must have dropped this after her fight with Sakura_,' Shirou's thoughts wandered, his mind once again disintegrating in the absence of those most precious to him. Only Rider's echoing words provided him focus, their implications weighing heavily enough on him for him to recall his purpose.

He had intended to Trace Excalibur, the strongest Noble Phantasm he knew, or at least his bastardised copy of it in order to destroy the tainted Grail, but somehow he knew that doing so would destroy him, and he couldn't allow that to happen, not now.

For some reason, he was finding it easier to access the thought-processes and memories of EMIYA, as if something was gluing the fraying pieces of his mind and soul together, but it must have been just his delirium.

'_After all, if my sense of self is fragmenting, it's not surprising if my mind can't recognize which of this jumble is mine or his_," mused Shirou rather morbidly as he moved deliberately towards the repulsive birthing of Angra Mainyu, concentrating on how to deal with the abomination as he struggled with his more-than-half-dead body.

It was with something akin to surprise when Shirou's fragmented mind latched onto a promising idea, one that actually held the prospect of his survival.

And this was when the equally abused form of Kirei Kotomine loomed before him, looking near death, with a stain the colour of pitch where his heart would be.

The Church Executor hadn't even been trying to sneak up on Shirou, the red-head's single-mindedness gifting the other distorted individual the opportunity for first-strike.

It was a horrid parody of his former power as Kirei lunged forwards with an elbow strike, intending to finish Shirou before his strength failed him. At the last moment, Shirou caught a glimpse of the bloodied form in the corner of one silver-hued eye and fell back gracelessly, barely dodging the still-lethal attack.

Kirei quickly pivoted on one foot, lashing out in a blurring backhand which Shirou blocked thoughtlessly with the Jeweled Sword, but the force brought to bear still knocked his defence asunder. The Executor didn't even flinch as his hand was flayed open and its bones shattered, instead capitalizing on the opening created as some of his blood got in Shirou's eyes, continuing his spinning motion and sending a roundhouse kick towards his opponent's abdomen.

In an almost prescient move, Shirou inched his torso back but wasn't fast enough to avoid a glancing blow by the heavy boot, which was still enough to send the teen careening away.

Shirou spun to bleed off most of the kick's force, but the slight wobble as he got to his feet belied its damage.

The teen carefully observed the taller man as he concentrated on his defence, his opponent had the edge on both experience and physical capability, so he would have to be careful when engaging the other in close combat. Judging from the priest's near-death state, Shirou's best hope was to outlast his foe.

The two opposites stared unblinkingly at each other, when suddenly the false priest started to laugh hollowly to himself, his maimed hand covering his face, before directing a surprisingly amiable expression at Shirou.

"Ask it. The question that's been gnawing at you."

Shirou blinked. This hadn't been what he had been expecting. For a second, his mind was blank, refusing to shift away from battle-readiness. Was this a ploy? Any delay in their fight would only benefit Shirou as time grew scarce for the corrupt priest, so what then was the point in this? Best to humor the priest, and harsh as it may sound, cut down on the seconds of life left to him.

There was no point in asking how he was still alive, the apparition before him had no heartbeat and his life was already ebbing away. What then could Kirei be alluding to…? Suddenly, in a moment of clarity, Shirou knew exactly what the priest was waiting for.

"Why are you doing this?"

Kirei seemed almost proud, like a teacher who had gotten a satisfactory answer from a dim student, "Why? I'm a believer in that everything has the right to live. Why do you condemn _it_ as evil before it's even been born?"

Shirou was shocked by Kirei's response, he had intended to strike during the priest's reply, but found that he was inexplicably bound to respond, "Don't give me that crap, it's already caused the death of so many. I can't let it be released."

"Is it evil just because it has killed? Even if his nature is evil, didn't everyone wish for him to be that way?"

The red-haired teen was dumbfounded; Kotomine's viewpoint was just too jarring.

"Humans don't have an absolute concept of good and evil. They become good or evil through learning, starting at zero and their decisions decide which is which. Now if humans are a coexistence between good and evil, such that even villains can have rare moments of good will and saints can behave with ill intentions. Then how about a being born evil?"

Once again, the priest's thinking was almost incomprehensible to Shirou, "So you think it's fine for him to be born even if he's someone who can only kill?"

"I believe that you cannot lay blame on what has yet to be born. Until its birth, there is no reason for any punishment."

"So you're saying that even if a baby is evil, it has committed no crime in being born."

"Correct." There was an eerie light in Kirei's eyes as he continued, "Since life begets both good and evil, nothing should be punished before it is born."

'_So it is for this reason alone that he will pardon 'All the World's Evil'.'_

Their continued banter was surprisingly cordial, juxtaposing with the increasingly hellish atmosphere surrounding them.

Kirei continued, "Even if Angra Mainyu's actions are evil, we still don't know how he feels about them."

"Eh? How he feels about his own actions?" Shirou didn't know why he was continuing this conversation, but he was compelled to finish it. Whatever _it_ was.

"If he views his own actions as evil, and agonizes over them, then he's evil. But if he has no doubt in his existence and actions, then he's good. After all, if he functions as everyone wished, then he cannot be evil."

Shirou shook his head vigorously, "No! Just because humans are a mix of good and evil doesn't condone his existence."

Kirei smirked, "Didn't I mention before that there is no crime in being born? You can't condemn him for future actions. I want to know how it feels about its own actions. If it would be able to forgive itself for destroying and losing everything. Maybe then I'll discover the worth of life and my own existence."

Something about the other's spiel struck a chord within Shirou as he slowly realized why his opponent's presence always felt _wrong_ to him.

"I want to know if it is fine to live as you are, when you're different from others. After all, just as you are a being which feels supreme bliss in others' happiness, I am one that feels the same in others' unhappiness."

Kirei's smile widened as comprehension dawned on Shirou, "Yes, we're the same. We both believe ourselves to be sinners, looking eternally for salvation that never comes, though it seems like our inclinations run opposite."

And with that, Shirou understood why Kirei had wished for this talk despite the disadvantageous nature of such an action, especially where time was so crucial. The meeting of two individuals so alike and yet so _unlike_ presented a unique opportunity to someone who had never held anyone's understanding his whole life. Here was the prospect of understanding, of something almost akin to acceptance to someone starved for such, and the sharing of the motivations and the culmination of his life's goals was impossible to dismiss. Even if the very act itself threatened to unhinge all his plans.

The two individuals' gaze met, and Kirei's lips quirked into something that only a generous person might call a smile. For the first time in his life, the false priest experienced the emotion that he equated to be the closest thing he felt to happiness without the misfortune of others.

"It seems like this has been a waste of breath, there was never a chance for either of us to back down was there?" Shirou exhaled, a part of him satisfied, as he prepared himself for the battle ahead.

"I don't mind, it was interesting even if neither of us has much time left."

Both were beyond their last dregs and each now sought to snuff out the other's flame before their own extinguished. In the end, there had never been the possibility of either abandoning their way of life.

Kirei had to kill Shirou for his wish to come true, Shirou needed to kill Kirei before he could destroy the shadow.

With simultaneously howls, the two empty human beings rushed one another in a flurry of blows that their battered bodies should not have been capable of. Their final clash was purely physical; Kirei had nothing else left to give and Shirou couldn't spare any Od for his plan to destroy the Blacked Grailto work.

Both were inhumanly fast, their exchanges faster than the eye could follow. Kirei should have been faster and stronger, not to mention more skilled, yet somehow Shirou managed to keep up with the Church Executor.

It wasn't obvious given that neither opponent showed any weakness, but gradually the likely victor was becoming clear. Where Kirei was simply flesh and blood, Shirou's unique soul was exhibiting its effects further. Any injury inflicted on the teen seemed to heal itself over and become resistant to further damage, and if one could examine them closely, rather than truly being healed, the wounds were instead getting sealed by countless minuscule interlocking blades.

"What a troublesome body to attack," Kotomine's fists were but a mess of pulped flesh and jagged bone, his earlier injuries buried under their gory ruin, yet he continued to smash them unflinchingly into his opponent's weak spots. Shirou seemed to have forgotten the Gem Sword in his hand, using only hand-to-hand combat to devastating effect combined with his body made of swords.

But the thing was; Kirei's attacks didn't just target the surface, but the inner workings of the human body as well. Though the effects of Shirou's Reality Marble on his surface cuts assisted him, its attempts at repairing his internal injuries were doing as much harm as good.

Their fight wore on, more blades protruding from Shirou's flesh like so many daggers, leaving only his face unmarred. Kirei quickly took notice of this and started to aim more strikes at his foe's head, but where Shirou was willing to absorb blows to his body, he desperately protected his head, going so far as to sacrifice his arms to block the bone-shattering attacks. Only the countless blades shoring up his broken bones allowed Shirou to fight on.

Both of them were slowing; Kirei from the accumulation of his injuries and Shirou from the continuing materialization of his distorted soul. With an unexpected burst of strength, Kotomine leapt up, kneeing Shirou in the solar plexus and sending him flying backwards despite himself.

His breath knocked out of him, every subsequent breath came with a screech of metal on metal, and the effort of getting to his feet was accompanied by the squeal of grinding blades. Looking up to see Kirei charging at him with one of his mutilated fists cocked, Shirou sucked in great gulps of air to prepare for their continuing death duel.

The end came abruptly.

It was almost as if someone nudged his arm and just as their clash would resume, before either man realized, the glittering sword was protruding from Kirei's back.

Both Shirou and Kirei looked almost uncomprehending at the crystalline blade impaling the priest's chest, centered right on the ink-black stain. Their eyes tracked the sword to the grip of Shirou's hand, before their gazes met. Kirei looked confused for a moment, his eyes searching, yet his expression quickly morphed into what seemed to be amused understanding.

With surprising strength, Kirei declared, "You win, Shirou Emiya. You are the victor of the Fifth Holy Grail War and the last Master. Go and fulfill your wish at the Holy Grail."

Then he just crumbled away.

Shirou was left with his arm outstretched, the ritual sword in his hand stained black with ichor, his mind in turmoil. Kirei's last moments were unsettling – the last look from him had been oddly triumphant – but he had no choice but to ignore his misgivings, it wasn't like the priest knew his plans.

He wasn't far from the birthing Angra Mainyu now, but every step felt like an eternity. The fight with Kotomine had rendered most of his limbs almost fused into immobility, and it was only with the redhead's inhuman will that he was able to move.

Finally he was before the shadowy giant.

What little Od he had left surged through his circuits, but they felt different somehow. It didn't matter. He raised the Jeweled Sword of Zelretch in his hand. Though Mystic Codes – magic artifacts which enabled certain feats of Magecraft – should only work for those within a Magus' lineage, Shirou had never allowed convention, or petty mystic rules, to limit him. After all, he'd used Noble Phantasms, the crystalized mysteries of Heroic Spirits, and Mystic Codes paled in comparison.

The crystal sword began to glimmer with inner light as Shirou held it upright over his head, unknowingly mimicking his fallen protector. Shirou's circuits heated up as more Prana than he expected ran through them, and his body warmed as its prana channels flowed with life force.

With a wordless yell, he swung the Gem Sword as it suddenly blazed with light, then a blinding surge of prismatic light surged forth from its core, bisecting the dark pillar in an explosion of extraordinary power.

For a few seconds, nothing could be seen as Shirou sheltered his eyes while being battered by the back blast. But slowly, as the dust cleared, Shirou's stomach dropped as the bleeding pregnant form of the Greater Grail was revealed.

An immense gash in its side dripped sickening sludge and the unborn Avenger appeared to be writhing in pain, but its bulk was undiminished. Without warning, an incoherent scream resounded through the cavern, inhumanly loud and not even recognizable as human.

There was a sudden lull, and Shirou lowered his hands from his ears as he prepared to strike the Grail again. As his weapon glowed with light once more, a torrent of shadowy flames poured forth from the grotesque monument, and in a blink of an eye, the entire cavern was awash in darkness.

Only the area around Shirou remained illuminated and clear of the dark flames, and just as he was about to unleash another attack on the immense artifact, the gate of the Greater Holy Grail _changed,_ and the swirl of eternity stared back at him.

For a timeless instant, Shirou didn't understand the implications as he stared into the gate through a veil of scarlet, blood dripping down his nostrils and leaking from his ears, then the light from the Gem Sword flickered and the gate was just a gate again.

'_No.'_

Scenes of an unholy blaze flashed through his mind and the sound of tortured monolithic factories echoed within his soul.

'_They're safe.'_

People around him dying.

'_This can't be happening… Not again.'_

All the blood vessels in his eyes had burst, rendering them an ominous crimson and bloody tears dripped unseen down the teen's expressionless face, falling onto the myriad of blades protruding from his flesh. The light from the crystal sword sputtered and vanished, yet the flames came no closer.

Shirou was assaulted by scenes of a Fuyuki City completely engulfed in unnatural flames, a disaster even worse than the one that birthed him. These fires were murky, even painful to look at. Everywhere people were just laying down to die; agony transposed by serenity.

His mind was cracking once more.

He desperately tried to shut out the images, but something kept shoving them into his brain, refusing to let up on his torture.

Then just when Shirou thought he would break, shatter like brittle glass, that _thing_ showed him its crowning achievement, its trump card.

This would be the last straw, the one that broke the camel's back. But it just went to show that it didn't understand Shirou Emiya, not at all.

It showed him its first victims; a trio of women, one hunched over the other two protectively just as they were engulfed in an inferno. Shirou let out an uncharacteristic gasp, then gritted his teeth when the protective long-haired beauty faded away, unable to withstand the fiery onslaught. Then went completely silent as almost in slow motion, the pair of unconscious girls were consumed by the firestorm.

The entity waited, barely concealing its glee. Its triumph, its birth was at hand, and there was nothing left to stop it.

Shirou Emiya opened his blood-filled eyes as they gleamed with an almost otherworldly light, and even through the pall of crimson, they shone; one a pale silver and the other glowing gold.

"You Bastard!"

A yell of unadulterated rage punctuated by a fierce arc of light that impacted on the monstrous cradle.

Liquid metal flowed through his veins, a searing pain that focused his splintering mind as Shirou concentrated all of his wrath on _its_ destruction.

They had been his family.

He had forsaken his ideals for them.

People he held even above the world.

And this _thing_ had taken them from him.

Now he would make sure that the warped Servant would never see the light of day.

It didn't matter now if he died, all that mattered was that he took Avenger down with him.

The surrounding shadows fled from the deluge of light, unable to withstand the fury of the teen as he channeled the energy of infinite worlds through the Gem Sword at the Greater Grail**.**

But Angra Mainyu refused to perish as he responded with a viscous stream of muddy darkness, and the cavern rumbled with the impact between shadow and light.

They were at a standstill.

With his concentration split between defence and birth, 'All the World's Evil' was unable to overpower the crystal Mystic Code, but Shirou was at a deadlock too, his muscles turning to swords and unable to Trace anything since all his Magic Circuits were being used.

Shirou's vision was corroding. His whole body was transmuting into blades as he exerted himself beyond his limits.

'_Angra Mainyu is winning.'_

'_No!'_

'_This is as far as you can go.'_

'_Never!'_

"Shirou."

He blinked.

Had he imagined that?

A diminutive figure clad in grandiose robes walked into his vision.

'_Illya?'_

"Don't worry, I'll close the gate," the snowy-haired girl smiled, unaffected by the horrific vision that was Shirou.

It was an almost insurmountable effort to speak, "…Y-you won't be able to return if you do."

"It's the only way; after all, I want you to live."

Shirou tried to shake his head and for a moment his lance of light wavered and the column of shadows crept closer.

"Shirou… They would want you to live as well. So live on, for us."

The glittering scales of his neck ground together as Shirou vigorously shook his head and somehow the beam of ether pouring from the crystal sword actually intensified, "Illya…"

She cut him off, "You know, I'm glad we were siblings even if we aren't related by blood." She hunched a bit as if telling a secret, "Now let me show you a miracle. It's an application of sorcery that everybody would beg to see."

Her smile was radiant.

"No! You idiot, I don't want to see it. Don't go!" The words grated forth from Shirou's throat and real tears mingled with the crimson rivulets on his face.

Illya moved right up to the gate of the Greater Grail, "You said before that it's the duty of the older brother to protect his younger sibling right? This time, I'm the older sister… so I'll protect my younger brother."

'_No… I can't let you sacrifice yourself for me…' _Shirou struggled to say, but the words refused to budge from a throat which didn't even resemble anything human anymore.

"Goodbye Shirou, live a happy life."

And with a final smile goodbye, the gate closed behind her.

-oOo-

The tower crumbled, pierced by light.

A city remained silent.

A priest's wish was left unfulfilled.

A body of swords was left hollow.

A soul(?) was revived then sent on a journey.

-oOo-

In another far different world, a formless _something_ emerged from a tiny rip in space.

The air was rich with Mana, beyond anything a magus could dream of, yet the soul, revitalized through an imperfect Third Sorcery needed an anchor. The Heaven's Feel had been incomplete, it had repaired the soul's cohesion but it still required a container lest it disperse.

In one instant to the next, a hazy silhouette appeared, superimposed over the soul, which gradually infused itself into the shape.

The fusion crept along; the outline steadily growing more distinct, its features becoming clearer as it slowly became recognizable as human.

-oOo-

* * *

AN: This is the first fanfic I've submitted online and has in fact been languishing in my hard-drive for several months while I considered what exactly to do with it. This was originally part of a larger chapter, but I've split it since I'm not satisfied with the second portion, and it made more sense to separate the prologue from the first chapter. Anyway, I wrote this mainly because the idea of combining the Nasuverse and Runeterra wouldn't get out of my head. The prospect of introducing Shirou to the conflict-filled world of League of Legends just screamed epic to me, and the storylines and backstories of the various characters seemed to yearn for Shirou's meddling.

Anyway, I'm not sure how often I'd update this. The following chapter shouldn't take too long (Primarily because most of it has already been completed), though it really depends on my motivation and free time.

Please read and review (fanfic authors live off reviews after all), comments, suggestions and constructive criticism are welcome, though flames will be ignored.


	2. Chapter 1: Start of a Journey

**Disclaimer: Fate/Stay Night and League of Legends are the properties of Type-Moon and Riot Games respectively.**

**Chapter 1: Start of a Journey**

-An indeterminate period of time later-

Shirou's slow struggle to consciousness was accompanied by a pounding headache.

He was disorientated, his mind filled with smog, and his head was splitting, vaguely he could feel rough rock against his bare back.

How had he gotten here? Where was he? What had he been doing?

As if triggered by that thought, memories flooded into him, culminating in the events that had led up to this point. His muscles seized; the pain was almost unbearable, and he would have fallen had he been standing.

'_They're all gone.'_

A lone tear tracked from a closed amber eye, its path tracked by the thin coating of dust that covered his body.

He didn't want to open his eyes; it would mean acknowledging that he was alone now, and he didn't know if he was strong enough to bear that reality.

'_I failed.' _

Shirou took a deep breath, then immediately realized his mistake as dust filled his lungs and for a few seconds he was wrecked by coughs.

As he recovered from almost exhaling his lungs, the teen contemplated just lying there till he wasted away. But just as quickly shook off the inane thought. Shirou might change, he might suffer, but he would never let death claim him lying down.

'_Illya said they'd want me to live.'_

He composed himself, clamping down on his emotions, and was surprised to see that he wasn't physically in pain; he should have been in horrible shape, the last he could remember he had been more sword than man, yet now he felt strangely mended.

He finally opened his eyes and for a fleeting instant, the darkness was absolute. Then his surroundings unfolded before him in muted greys as his eyes grew accustomed to the soft ambient glow.

He sat up and looked about him; he was roughly in the center of an immense cavern, and it was far different from what he had expected. The cave itself didn't appear as he had remembered. Since he was alive – and hadn't be crushed to death – he had assumed that the cave hadn't collapsed from all the destructive energies that had been tossed about, yet there wasn't a single piece of rubble in evidence, besides the ever-present floating dust motes. But what really stole his attention was the colossal conflagration before him.

Roiling sickly purple flames that emitted neither light nor heat stretched out at least fifty meters to either side, they emanated a subtle sense of discomfort which Shirou barely noticed but certainly drew his attention.

Shirou immediately got to his feet, stumbling slightly – his center of gravity felt off – and realized that his location hadn't been the only thing that had changed. First off, he was completely nude, he had expected his clothing to be damaged beyond repair from his previous life-and-death struggles, but there still should have been at least some remnants of them. Secondly, while he wasn't sure, his body seemed somehow different.

He examined himself best he could in the low light, and was it his imagination or did his musculature seem more refined? While his physique before had been nothing to scoff at – already at a level to draw the envy of most highschool students – now it rivaled those of fitness addicts and peak athletes; all sculpted lines and lean muscle.

Wait a minute…where were all his scars? From the little marks from everyday life to the fist-sized starburst scar above his heart, every blemish appeared to have vanished without a trace, leaving pristine unbroken skin. To add to his growing headache; was his mind still playing tricks on him or did he also seem taller? An easy way to investigate things.

Shirou calmed his breathing then pulled the trigger of the imaginary gun in his head.

Firing up only a single circuit, he felt his caution had been warranted when even its activation felt off. Was this from the damage to his circuits? The teen focused his senses inward as he used Structural Grasping on his own body and was shocked at what he found. He hadn't been imagining things – His entire body had been drastically changed.

Where he had previously been rather average in height for his age, he was now closer to his future-self's stature at slightly over one hundred and eighty centimeters tall. The unexplained changes wrought on his body seemed to have replicated the passing of time, molding it to more closely parallel EMIYA's, though fortunately certain prominent changes had abstained themselves; Shirou's features may have matured noticeably, but his golden-amber eyes remained his own and he retained the auburn colour of his hair. Leaving the two recognizably different despite their growing similarities.

His flesh also appeared to be as untouched as a newborn's and interestingly enough, where before there had been a clear demarcation in skin tone where Archer's borrowed arm met the joint of his shoulder, there was now seamless skin and his once-lost limb appeared to be wholly his own again.

**Avalon**, the fae-crafted scabbard still remained ensconced within him, though it had a stillness about it that elicited in him a sense of melancholy.

'_What happened to me? Did Illya do this?'_

All of a sudden, the headache that had been relegated to the back of his mind intensified as memories not his own – yet inexplicably an unbroken part of him – overwhelmed him, and for a few breathless moments, Shirou nearly lost himself in the rush of memories.

Conflicts beyond count. Sacrifice. Innocents saved and lost.

And above all – a hill of swords.

Coming to his senses, the red-haired teen found himself on his hands and knees, muscles trembling and rivulets of sweat trailing down his body. He hadn't felt himself fall to the ground.

'_That didn't feel the same as accessing Archer's memories… I can feel them now; they're a part of me-'_

'_How can that be?'_

Shirou got back to his feet, he could feel the jumble of EMIYA's memories but they encompassed too much for him to really make sense of. They seemed too huge, too numerous – stretching beyond the realm of human thought and imagination – and the cogs of Shirou's mind were already straining beyond their limit. There were too many mysteries right now and not enough information, so he'd just conveniently attribute his new physical status to Illya's sorcery for the time being. That was as good as an answer as any, and he didn't have the knowledge or the means to investigate further at present.

Exploration of his surroundings would have to wait, first he had to remedy his clothing situation, or rather his lack thereof. On some half-conscious impulse and before he could stop himself, Shirou channeled more Prana through his lone activated circuit and then wove the Prana into a glimmering display of particles which coalesced into a sleek set of flexible plated black armor covered in a crimson surcoat, hauntingly reminiscent of Archer's.

It was made primarily of some lightweight composite beyond human-make that EMIYA had encountered in his travels, and fit him perfectly despite his changed build. The feel of the protective garment felt familiar and oddly comforting, though he had to keep a trickle of Prana flowing in order to preserve its cohesion.

Shirou looked about him; the end of the cavern could be seen behind him and there were no openings in the walls. So with nothing else to distract him, Shirou approached the phenomenon that dominated the center of the room and extended his senses towards it.

And they were abruptly halted by an invisible barrier appearing to stem from the great circle of inscribed stones that enclosed the foul blaze. What little miasma that leaked from the Bounded Field exuded nothing but cloying darkness and corruption, though it did nothing to affect Shirou. He had experienced far worse things and this vile anomaly paled in comparison.

Still, despite its tainted nature, the safeguards in place seemed to render it harmless, and without extensive knowledge as to its existence, Shirou was hesitant to act on his impulse to destroy it.

With its threat assessed, Shirou continued his trek around the perimeter of the ill-boding pyre, his boots leaving lonely tracks in the dust-covered earth. Any magus worth his salt would have carefully scrutinized the supernatural blaze extensively in an attempt to further their craft, but Shirou had never viewed himself as such. Once he dismissed it as a threat, it became nothing more than an interestingly-colored bonfire to him.

Coming to the opposite end of the roughly circular pit of flames, Shirou spotted an ornate stone portal in the distance, which when he drew closer, revealed itself to be the entrance to a passageway, half again as tall as him and twice as wide, running perpendicular to the wall of the chamber.

Even a third-rate magus like Shirou could feel the power emanating from the indecipherable runes on the ancient-looking entryway, though their purpose remained unknown to him. Unfortunately, his explorations had not uncovered any other exits, so he was left with little choice; he could attempt to blast his way out, but without knowledge of his current location and with an unknown level of danger present, he didn't want to squander any of his strength or risk bringing down the cave on top of him. Turning his gaze once more to the runic stones implanted within the archway, their inner makings unfolded before him as he used Structural Grasping. It seemed that these runestones were only a small part of a much larger system, which limited his understanding of their function. All he could tell was that they at least functioned as an alarm, but for what he had no idea.

Unable to glean any further information, Shirou prepared himself. Though he didn't know what was in store for him once he crossed the threshold, he wanted to be ready for anything so he fired up more of his Magic Circuits in order to Trace several preemptory Noble Phantasms.

But once again his new body revealed that it had a few more surprises in store.

More Prana than he expected was flowing through his pseudo-nervous system, more than he should have been able to channel without damaging them, yet he felt no strain. On a hunch, he activated more of his circuits.

Ten, then twenty fired up and when their number reached twenty seven, the quantity Shirou and EMIYA had originally possessed, he expected for them to halt, but instead they continued initiating until a full forty-nine circuits were activated and channeling – for Shirou – a heretofore unreached amount of Prana.

'_What?'_

'_Am I accessing Archer's circuits as well? How is this possible?'_

Shirou could vaguely sense around twenty of his original Magic Circuits, the rest being the much stronger circuits that he assumed were EMIYA's. Even the physical Prana conduits within his body – the corporeal expression of his circuits – had been altered, which was the likely source of the strange sensation when he had first fired up his circuit after awaking.

Now to see if his unique brand of Magecraft had been affected.

"**Trace On."**

Tentatively, Shirou Traced a number of nameless but superbly-forged blades gleaned from his memories as EMIYA. He held his breath, and there almost seemed to be the groaning of tortured metal grinding on his ears, but his apprehension was uncalled for as the swords loaded themselves seamlessly into his internal world, ready to be Projected into the world at his call.

He exhaled softly, then Traced three pairs of Kanshou and Bakuya which were once again produced flawlessly within his Reality Marble. The legendary paired Chinese sabers were his most reliable Noble Phantasms and their faultless Tracing laid a load off his mind.

What was curious though, was the fact that he had utilized a much smaller amount of Od than he had expected; he had been unsure when he had reproduced the nameless swords, but the Tracing of the 'married' twin swords confirmed it. The experiences of EMIYA added to his own could account for an improvement in conceptualization and thus reduced Prana requirements, but either his Tracing had inexplicably improved beyond even his future-self's level or the environment's Mana levels were much higher than Fuyuki City, which was… disquieting.

Shirou's hometown was noted for its strong leylines, so for this place to dwarf Fuyuki City's Mana concentration such that it had a noticeable effect on Magecraft? It didn't take a genius to conclude that Shirou wasn't in Fuyuki City anymore. Had he somehow been transported to the secret lair of a powerful family within the Mage Association? That would account for the insane amount of Mana in the air and the changes to his body. Though why they had left him unsecured and free to roam about was troubling. Were they so confident in their ability to subdue him or was this some sick experiment of theirs?

It didn't matter. Either Shirou managed to escape or he would die trying.

'_After all, I can't let my little (big) sister down.'_

If he was being held by a Noble family, then he would have to pull out all the stops. Whatever he was, as far as he knew, he wasn't invulnerable and if his suspicions were right and he was right smack in the workshop of a powerful magus – the center of his power – then he'd need all the advantages he could get.

Within his inner world, a few more noteworthy Noble Phantasms appeared along with a matte-black bow, then summoning forth a copy of Kanshou and Bakuya into his hands, Shirou flooded his body with Prana, Reinforcing it to the peak of his ability and rocketed past the threshold of the stone doorway.

He immediately felt something akin to a Boundary Field trigger, and for a few frenzied heartbeats, every muscle of Shirou's body strained in his attempt to bypass any defenses through pure speed. Peculiarly enough, other than a soft white glow throughout the tunnel, nothing sought to kill or harm the teen as he sprinted through the pathway – which slopped gently upwards and in a subtle spiral hundreds of meters wide.

Unwilling to lower his guard and his hackles rising, Shirou's senses were on overdrive waiting for the inevitable strike – and as seconds passed into minutes – he grew more unsettled.

Absently, Shirou observed that the passage itself was covered with intricate runes on almost every surface, and were the source of the gentle luminescence, though their purpose eluded him. This was the work of a great many experienced magi, yet so far nothing had appeared to obstruct him. It wasn't that the runic arrays were inactive; Shirou could feel the power humming through them, yet he didn't feel any mental incursions, Prana invasion or any other indirect forms of attack.

His footsteps were completely silent – seemingly another side-effect of the memory merger – and his breath was even despite the beyond-human speed he was travelling at. As minutes passed, Shirou slowed slightly when in the utter stillness of the tunnel, he heard the distinctive patter of footsteps in the distance.

'_Here they come.' _

His mouth set in a grim line, Shirou held his paired swords crossed before him, readying himself for any attack. Finally he caught sight of the source of the footsteps – a score of lightly armored warriors led by a slimly-muscled brown-haired man with Mediterranean features dressed in white and blue leathers and carrying a large distinctive metallic bow.

They were still a few hundred meters away and only the leader appeared to have seen him, so even as the brunette yelled out, "Halt!" Shirou instead put on a burst of speed and carefully eyed the most perceptibly-skilled of the group; there was an aura about him that almost resembled that of the Servants of the Grail War, and that definitely didn't bode well.

His caution was deserved as a whole flight of what seemed to be arrows completely made out of light filled the span of the passageway, and the black and white curved swords in his hands weaved a metallic web that intercepted those that would have impacted him. Not batting an eye, the lone archer continued to send more shining projectiles unerringly and unbelievably quickly at Shirou.

'_That archer…Varus… is superbly skilled, even by EMIYA's standards…Yet I'm keeping up with him?'_

Shirou's Reality Marble, the unique Magecraft that facilitated his impossible feats, had automatically recorded and stored the full armaments of the closing combatants, including all their histories – and by extension: their users' – prompted his thoughts, _'Those aren't magi, but that bow's either a powerful Mystic Code…or a Noble Phantasm-'_

His thoughts were rudely interrupted by the sudden flash of danger that ran through him. Not knowing the source of foreboding, Shirou erred on the side of caution and prepared to Project Rho Aias, the transcended shield of Ajax and Archer's strongest defence, at a moment's notice.

The reason for Shirou's apprehension quickly became apparent as the stream of luminous missiles halted, and only meters away from the first of the armored men, who rather than forming a united front had instead left a sizable gap from which their leader could be seen, holding his bow at full draw with what appeared to be a miniature sun nocked.

There was no time for conscious thought and it was only Shirou's earlier preparation that saved him as he screamed out, **"Rho Aias!" **Even as the seven petals of the legendary shield of Ajax coalesced before the redhead, the enemy archer loosed his attack. For an instant, an almost solid pillar of incandescent light connected Varus's bow and Shirou's conjured barrier, then abruptly the attack exploded in a blinding display of scintillating fragments.

In a flash, trailing radiant motes of shattered light, Shirou was in front of the group, and before any of them could blink, he leapt up then bounded off the ceiling and past them in an inhuman feat of strength and agility – all the while fending off the unending stream of glowing arrows – before the warriors could confront him with sword and shield.

There was no point in fighting them, it would only leave whoever he was up against more time to prepare, he had already observed their running speed, and there was no way for them to catch up to him. There was also the nagging fact that the histories he had glimpsed from his pursuers' weapons hadn't seem to jive with what he had expected, and that was…disconcerting.

He rapidly left his pursuers behind, or so he thought, but for nearly half a minute, he continued to be harried by gleaming bolts of light, which he absently noticed were absorbed without a ripple by the glowing walls. Then shortly after he outpaced his lone remaining shadow, he was confronted by a solid wall of effulgent light, which when probed with a tentative blade, proved to be unyielding.

Well, he had just the tool for such an obstacle.

He dismissed the dual blades in his hands, then conjured forth a familiar lustrous jagged dagger and then without preamble, pierced the barrier, bursting it like a soap bubble.

The scene which stretched out before him almost made him groan. Ranks upon ranks of heavily armored soldiers, archers and what appeared to be fighting monks were arrayed before him, and without exception were now fixing their attention upon the intruder.

The odds weren't good. Some of the guards were armed with weapons of not inconsiderable power and for him to escape from such an encirclement would likely mean that Shirou couldn't hold back, which meant probable fatalities. Could he hold his freedom over their lives?

No… not without reason.

Even at his most cynical, Shirou still strove to preserve life.

But this wasn't about his freedom – this was about the wishes of those most precious to him.

And for them, he would even for-

"Wait!" A distant voice ringing with authority called out from behind Shirou.

Incongruously, he sensed no hostility from the voice and though the warriors before him remained guarded, they didn't move to attack.

Shirou had been assembling even more weapons in his Reality Marble, taking advantage of the lull to tip the scales further in his favor, though he didn't move to take further action. If there was a chance for zero bloodshed, he'd take it, but even more compelling was that _something_ that had been nagging at him since his first contact with his pursuers.

The information he had continued to gather subconsciously seemed to be pointing at a disquieting conclusion: these armed men confronting him weren't the lackeys or servants of Clock Tower Nobles.

It seemed more and more likely with every passing second that his earlier conjecture had been incorrect, which was further supported by his surroundings now that he could take a few seconds to take them in.

He had emerged into the foyer of what appeared to be a large temple of oriental design – bright with sunbeams and possessing an air of tranquility – a setting which basically ruled out any Noble family of the Mage Association, reason being that there was a distinct bias within the entire organization against any eastern influence, which the Noble families epitomized.

As the archer drew closer, Shirou moved to the side of the entrance, keeping a back to the wall; it wasn't wise to be sandwiched between potential enemies, even if they weren't part of the Mage Association.

"Stranger, we mean you no harm," the brown-haired bowman said placatingly – his words strangely out of sync with his lips – his bow lowered, as he emerged from the tunnel. Up close, Shirou was surprised to see that the speaker didn't appear much older than him, though the archer had maybe half a head on him, with a slighter build.

Shirou scoffed, "You've an odd way of showing that."

"My apologies, I am Varus, Guardian of the Pallas Temple, and it was my fault for overreacting. Our warning klaxons were setoff, and when I saw you coming from the _Pit_ with swords drawn. I feared the worst."

The hollow that had been forming at the base of Shirou's stomach deepened, he'd never heard of such a place. Wanting to verify his suspicions, he asked with no little trepidation, "…Where are we currently?"

His question seemed to confirm something within the Temple Guardian, "This is the Temple of Pallas, located in the southern region of the mainland of Ionia. Am I correct in assuming that you are not of Runeterra?"

'_Runeterra?'_ Shirou reeled, his fears realized. He had been absent-mindedly observing how the archer's words seemed to be growing more in sync with his lip-movements, but with the latest revelation, he dismissed it as irrelevant.

Varus carefully watched the cruel-looking dagger still clutched in the outsider's hand as his words visibly shook the man; it wasn't much, any other person would have missed the signs, but his eagle-eyes took in the slight tightening of the brow and the whitened knuckles.

Several tense moments passed, then Shirou broke the silence, "Yes… this isn't my home."

Varus waited a few seconds but the red-haired warrior didn't seem inclined to continue, so he gave a slight theatric bow, "Then let me be the first to welcome you to our world, we might not have met under the best circumstances, but from what I've seen, you don't seem to be the bad sort."

He continued, this time his words also directed at the surrounding defenders, "You could've easily injured or killed my subordinates, but you didn't. Instead you only tried to escape. Seeing that the Runes of Purification didn't impede you, I'd guess that your arrival here doesn't have anything to do with the _Pit_."

'_So that was the purpose of those glowing inscriptions.'_

Shirou didn't sense any falsehood in Varus' words, so with a little apprehension, Rule Breaker dissolved, leaving the teen seemingly defenseless. If they were going to double-cross him, now would be the time.

Shirou tensed, his internal world ready, but the palpable tension in the air had dissipated alongside his dagger. Slowly, the guards put away their weapons and at some unseen signal, most of them marched off on some unknown duty. Unseen acolytes had emerged from hidden alcoves and the battle-ready monks had relaxed their stance as they drifted closer.

"Please follow me, I think you'll want to know more about the world you've found yourself in," Varus said as he shouldered his large bow, and only then did Shirou truly relax as he shut down all but one of circuits.

'_They seem to put a lot of faith in this man's judgment. There was no hesitation once Varus vouched for me,'_ Shirou thought.

The archer motioned for Shirou to accompany him, and as the pair moved off into one of the airy connecting hallways, many of the monks and acolytes formed orderly columns to trail them.

Just before they exited the foyer, Shirou noted that one of the more ornately armored soldiers had remained behind, presumably to update the scouts still in the tunnels.

They walked in silence, Shirou seemed immersed in his thoughts and the others didn't seem inclined to disturb him.

The end of the hallway yielded their destination, a set of imposing wooden double-doors, which opened into a brightly lit room that smelled of incense. At its far end sat a row wizened elders talking in low voices, which quickly ceased as the procession entered.

Varus strode to the center of the room and bowed, "Greetings Council members."

"Why have you come before us Varus?" the centermost elder spoke.

"Elder Agrippa, I have investigated the source of the alarm and I am glad to report that there was no breach from the _Pit_." Varus said.

"Then what triggered the alarm?" another council member quickly interjected.

"Councilor Augustus, as I was about to report, we instead found an unexpected visitor, a planeswalker it seems, though it doesn't appear to be a deliberate decision on his part," Varus said as he gestured grandiosely towards Shirou.

The teen took this as his cue as he stepped forward and bowed, "I greet you, elders, my name is Shirou Emiya and it appears that I come from another world. Unfortunately, I have no idea how or why I arrived here. Just know that I intend you no harm." He had fudged a bit; he didn't wish to give up any potentially dangerous information and his origins were too convoluted to explain easily anyway.

The regal-looking old woman smiled warmly, "We welcome you to Runeterra, Shirou Emiya, this might be an unexpected meeting but if Varus vouches for you, then know that you have the hospitality of the Temple and Pallas for as long as you require it."

Something about that woman inspired trust so Shirou decided to take her generosity at face-value. He gave her a deep bow, "Thank you, this means a lot to me."

Breaking formality, Marcella gave a surprisingly youthful grin, "Do not worry young man, we of Ionia pride ourselves in being a peaceful haven for all. Now Varus, please show Mr Emiya around, teach him about the world he's found himself in… and get him some proper clothes."

Shirou found himself a little shocked at the last bit, was she referring to the foreignness of his clothes, or could she see that they were constructs of Prana? Before he could clarify what she meant, Varus had pat him on the back, waved congenially to the elders, and then firmly guided him out of the chamber, leaving their entourage behind.

"Well that went well, I was worried that my estimation of you was wrong, but that's a load off my shoulders," the taller man laughed rather affably.

Shirou looked askance at the man and then asked, "What do you mean by that? And where are you taking me?"

"Which question do you want me to answer first? Hmm, the easier one first I guess, we're going to get you some new clothes. Not that what you're wearing is bad…but I'm sure you don't want to be left naked if your Mana runs out."

'_Mana huh… I wonder if the rules of Thaumaturgy are the same in this world,'_ Shirou thought but instead asked, "So you can see that my clothes are made of Mana?"

"I am the Guardian of Pallas after all, I can access all the mystic defenses and by extension, their sensors," Varus answered, part boast part warning.

"You didn't answer my first question."

Varus laughed, "I was getting to that. The answer is a little long and you need a little backstory first. You see the Temple of Pallas was built to contain a great evil; an ancient pit of corruption. The Ionian Elders of that time hastened to contain the Pit, constructing an intricate and extensive set of mystic defenses, topped by a fortress temple, and then charged one of their greatest warriors with its Guardianship." He buffed his nails exaggeratedly at this.

'_So that's what that overgrown bonfire was; it couldn't really compare with Angra Mainyu.'_

The archer continued, "I don't know if you noticed, but the passageway you were running through functions as an enormous sealing array, which encloses the _Pit_ and purifies any of its foul emissions. So the fact that you were running through them unencumbered was a point in your favor. Then there were my observations through the sensor runes, which added to your case. But while my judging of character is top-notch, there's a reason why Marcella is an Elder, and her judgment holds much weight."

"I presume that the title 'Elder' is significant?" Shirou asked wryly.

"They are the ruling body of Ionia, and each province is governed by one. Elder Marcella oversees the province of Crius and its capital, Pallas, so she and the city council usually convene here."

"There's more to it isn't there?"

Varus chuckled, "You're pretty sharp, the Elders aren't respected because they're our leaders, they're our leaders because they're the Elders. To become an Elder, you have to participate in an event that only comes once every five years called 'The Distinction'. It's a series of trials that tests not just your skills, but your motivations as well. The most revered of all is the 'Trial of Humility', and it's the reason why there's not been a power struggle in all of our recorded history."

"You seem very proud of your culture."

"Of course, our goal is spiritual enlightenment and peace for all, and I think most people would agree that it's a worthy cause," Varus replied.

Their conversation had led them back to the foyer and then past a series of manned checkpoints, until they finally reached the impressive gated entrance to the temple; a massive monument of red-stained iron-wood bound in golden metal.

Throughout their walk, they had passed numerous guards and ascetics, yet none of them stopped to gawk or even gossip about Shirou, lending weight to Varus' claims about their culture of acceptance.

Just as they reached the great open doors, Varus skipped ahead, quickly blocking off Shirou's view before he could get any glimpse beyond the brilliant skyline. Before Shirou could ask what was wrong, Varus gave a dramatic bow as he swept back his arms like some herald and proclaimed, "Welcome to Pallas, most beautiful city of Ionia."

At Varus' ostentatious actions, he moved aside to reveal the sprawling city which encircled the temple, and it stole Shirou's breath away. Distantly he heard Varus continue jesting about how the other Ionian cities foolishly challenged that title, but Shirou's full concentration was dedicated to the view as more of the city unfolded before them.

The Temple of Pallas was situated on top of the largest hill at the center of the city, gifting it an unparalleled view of Pallas and its environs, which extended almost as far as he could see. The hill itself was clear of other buildings and covered in carefully manicured lush green grass, bisected by the lone stone path leading up to the temple. Glistening rivers ran through the city, bridged by graceful viaducts and bordered by quaint brick-stone paths which meandered through the vibrant flora. The myriad of buildings were of elegant oriental-design, their vibrant colors forming a harmonious palette, and interspersed among them were multi-hued majestic crystal constructs of unknown purpose, teeming with wisps of phantasmagoric energy. Completing the picture of tranquility was the lively populace going about their daily life.

The city seemed to represent a flourishing coexistence between nature and civilization that reached out and calmed Shirou's toiling soul. Unbidden the thought came to him, _'Sakura and Rider would've loved this place.'_

The peace within him fractured; his thoughts once again somber. The trek down the hill had been long enough that the wonder inspired by the sights had gradually quietened.

The pair walked in silence as they entered the city proper, Varus had stopped talking sometime during their decline, perhaps sensing Shirou's reticence. As they walked through the streets, no one batted an eye at the obviously-armed Varus, and on the contrary, many waved and greeted the archer. Shirou himself drew quite a few curious looks though at some unspoken signal, not a single person approached the duo.

Their path eventually brought them close to one of the levitating crystalline formations, prompting Shirou to ask, "Varus-san, what are those giant floating crystals?"

"Psh, just call me Varus," the brown-haired man waved flippantly, " Those crystals provide Mana for the general populace since most people can't generate or channel enough Mana to work even a common stove, so those crystals draw in power from nearby leylines, which can then be used by run-of-the-mill mystic tools."

Varus continued, "They also function as an important form of transportation, we're about to take this one anyway, so you'll get to see for yourself."

The archer stepped up and gestured toward the sigils on the floor directly below the floating crystal, which looked like stylized arrows pointing inwards, "You see these markings here? They mark the four cardinal directions and when you step on them, they teleport you to the next waypoint in that direction. Since the waypoints are distributed about the city in a grid system, it's pretty intuitive how to get about the city."

Just then, the air nearby seemed to ripple and then a small group of people appeared from nowhere, only to continue on nonchalantly towards the waypoint and then disappeared as they passed through some unseen portal.

"See, it's easy. Come on, you won't feel a thing," Varus chuckled as he jogged up to the hovering crystal – _'The waypoint,'_ Shirou thought to himself – and then motioning Shirou over, seemed to melodramatically trip and fall before he vanished.

Shirou couldn't help but grin a bit at the other man's attempt at levity.

The grin slowly morphed into a self-depreciating smirk, and as Shirou carefully stepped over the sigil which Varus had vanished over, the world transposed itself around him; for an endless instant, something seemed to stretch out to Shirou but then he blinked and he was somewhere else.

The teen stood stock-still for a while, his mind still reaching out for something he didn't recognize, then the moment passed and Varus who had been patiently waiting, nodded to Shirou, "It might be a little disorientating for first-timers, but don't worry, the magic is harmless." He then continued onward toward another near-identical waypoint, "We've got two more relays to pass through and then we'll be in the shopping district."

Shirou's subsequent waypoint transportations went similarly; with the same mystifying near-epiphany that was at once just out of grasp and infinitely distant. Varus had been making small-talk in the interim, telling Shirou a bit about Pallas and its many attractions, though Shirou was listening with only half an ear.

Varus suddenly asked, "So what do you think about our city?"

Shirou paused a moment, then replied, "It's very beautiful and…soothing."

Varus' gaze lingered on Shirou, he hadn't missed the slight pause but he didn't pry. Changing the subject, he said, "Well, we're nearly at the shopping district. I think you'll be able to get anything that suits your taste there; we get merchants from all over Valoran hawking their wares. Don't worry about money, we'll pay first and if you're insistent on it, you can repay us later."

Shirou was practical enough to accept the charity and he nodded gratefully to Varus, but his ears had perked at a certain word, "Valoran?"

"It's a huge continent west of Ionia, many times our size. The countries there are pretty diverse, though conflict has been brewing for quite some time between the largest. So far we've been able to stay out of it, but I worry that we'll soon be drawn into the struggle whether we like it or not," Varus ended on a grim note.

He continued, "Don't get me wrong, we Ionians pride ourselves on our diplomacy and neutrality, and our country has already sent many of our top mediators and diplomats to Valoran as adjudicators. I heard from the council that even Duchess Karma herself has left to assist the League."

'_League?'_

It seemed to Shirou that the more about this world was revealed to him, the more questions seemed to emerge, but before he could ask his many queries, they arrived at their destination and Varus started to introduce him to the self-declared 'Greatest Market of the World'.

Shirou's first impression of the Bazaar was that Varus hadn't been exaggerating; there were a staggering range and quantity of items on display, and the marketplace itself seemed to stretch on endlessly. The clamor of customers and traders was deafening, yet for all its noise, there was an atmosphere of cheer and civility.

-oOo-

For the next hour, Varus was astounded by a display of divine level skill by Shirou as he bartered and charmed his way through every shop lady he came across, and somehow managed to procure every item from some enigmatic mental list at incredibly low prices, which curiously included many foodstuffs and spices.

By the end of his breathtaking shopping spree, Shirou had drawn a crowd of admirers consisting mostly of older women, and his attire had changed to match those worn by the local people; similar to archaic Japanese clothing, though tinged with some western influences –_'Roman?'_, which were surprisingly comfortable and unrestricting.

Surrounded by his adoring fans and his arms laden with accumulated bounty, Shirou sent Varus a wordless plea, which elicited a quiet snicker from the man, before he moved to 'rescue' the beleaguered teen.

Curiously, as Varus approached his charge, he noted that bandages peeked out of one of Shirou's sleeves. The teen hadn't seemed injured, yet sometime when he had been out of Varus's sight, he appeared to have applied bandages to himself for some reason.

Managing to break through the crowd to extricate Shirou, both of them gave a sigh of relief when they eventually emerged from the inexhaustible marketplace.

Any conversation was cut off by a load rumble, to which Varus quirked an eyebrow, "I assume that food is your next priority?"

Shirou looked a bit sheepish as he answered, "That's the reason why I bought some ingredients, do you know any places for some cheap accommodation and hopefully access to a kitchen?"

Varus thumped his chest, "Don't worry, you can stay with me until you find a place to live. My home has plenty of room and I'm sure my family would love to have you."

"I couldn't impose…"

"-Nonsense," Varus quickly cut Shirou off. "Let me show you some vaunted Ionian hospitality while you get back on your feet. My home's not too far off anyway so your stomach won't have to suffer for long."

Seeing the resolute expression on the other's face and not wishing to slight his generosity, Shirou nodded his acceptance and they continued on, Varus regaling the teen with tales about his family.

-oOo-

Varus's home evoked a sense of warmth that was instantly palpable and was set in what seemed to be the opulent section of the city. It consisted of multiple interconnecting expansive buildings surrounding a well-tended pond fed by multiple meandering streams, and was situated amidst sprawling gardens, which were in-turn enclosed by pristine white walls.

The laughter of children at play greeted the duo as a pair of guards opened the compound's main gates to let them in. With the glint of mischief in his eyes, Varus hastened forward as he yelled out, "I'm home! And I've got a new playmate for you guys!"

A sense of trepidation began to fill Shirou as the sudden trampling of feet grew louder, followed by the shrieks of excited children.

Varus turned back to face Shirou and the smirk on his face would have done the Cheshire cat proud, "Did I mention that my extended family is here?"

The audible click of the shutting gate sounded Shirou's doom before the legion of hellions rounded the corner of the nearest building, then poured toward the pair in a tide of grinning cherubic faces and grubby limbs.

There were around two dozen children, all aged under 10, but the flurry of energy they exuded gave the impression of twice their number. With his arms laden as they were, Shirou was unable to do anything but watch the approaching maelstrom with a slight feeling of apprehension, his had never been a large family, and as a child, somehow most children hadn't known how to respond to him.

They clustered around Varus and to a lesser extent Shirou, shooting off 'Hi's' and 'Hello's' with the infinite excitement of youth, and Shirou couldn't help but crack a genuine smile at their exuberance.

"Now kids, this here's Uncle Shirou. He'll be staying with us for a while so make him welcome alright? Now why don't you give him the Quinctilius Family Hello."

Shirou could only brace himself for impact before the tidal wave of children crashed against him as they each gave him a fleeting hug and greeting. Then as suddenly as they appeared, the mob surged off on some unknown mission, screaming their joy all the way, followed by a smaller group of shepherding teenagers who cheerfully waved their greetings as they wandered off after the children.

"Lovable little tykes aren't they? Though they're a terror to keep up with," Varus laughed at Shirou's slightly shell-shocked expression. "They seemed to like you, so you won't have to worry about frogs appearing in your room. You wouldn't believe the pranks they're capable of."

The duo started on the main stone footpath – a road really – that appeared to lead toward the most impressive of the structures.

"Where I come from, it's quite rare to have such a large number of children at family gatherings. It was nice to see such obvious happiness."

"Ohh? So yours was a smaller family? I'll admit that my family is a bit on the larger side, but Ionia is prosperous and the more the merrier after all."

Shirou's face was still as he replied, "My family was small, but I wouldn't have traded it for the world." There was a wealth of meaning in those words, but for the life of him Varus couldn't make them out. Obviously moving away from the topic of his family, Shirou continued after a slight pause, "So tell me about yours. From what I can see, it definitely doesn't appear to be an ordinary one."

Varus puffed out his chest, "Don't say I didn't warn you, we Quinctiliuses won't stop until we're done with our family spiel." He gave Shirou a mock-searching look before continuing, "The Quinctilius family is one of the oldest in Ionia, our family records stretch back millennia and we're proud to have counted many Elders from our ranks throughout our history. Our family base lies in Galrin, the southern-most province, though we've been gradually shifting to Pallas, given that the great heir-apparent dwells here."

Shirou quirked an eyebrow as Varus exaggeratedly buffed his fingernails on his chest, "Heir-apparent?"

"_Great_ heir-apparent. Anyway, the family is spread out across Ionia, so not that many managed to make it for this family reunion."

Something about how Varus said his last sentence rang with partial truths – no doubt EMIYA's experiences continuing to exhibit their effects – and Shirou knew there were things left unsaid, "There's more to it isn't there?"

For the first time since Shirou met him, Varus actually looked somber, "Remember what I said about Valoran? How hostility between the largest nations appears to be escalating? Well, there's a mediating faction that is regulating that dispute, which should be a good thing. But…the most antagonistic of the countries, Noxus, Urgh even its name is foul." Varus's lips twisted in distaste, "There have been rumors about it directing its gaze outside Valoran… and more specifically towards Ionia. That's why much of my family is wary about leaving their homes, we're just about the closest you could get to a military family in Ionia, and our members tend to be part of the home-guard and martial forces. With the prospect of invasion, few wish to potentially leave their homes unguarded. We live in unsettling times and I'm sorry to say but your arrival has poor timing."

"Still, they remain rumors," Varus tried and failed to lighten his tone. "Merchants coming from Noxus haven't seen any signs of their military mobilizing near their eastern border, or at least no more than usual."

'_Relying on merchants for important intel? There's definitely a lot being left unsaid. Still, I am pretty much a stranger and an unproven one, so some reticence is warranted.'_

"Wow, we went quite a bit off-topic," Varus's laugh was a little forced. "Anyway, as I mentioned before, the Quinctilius family prides itself as being one of the foremost protectors of Ionia, and all of our members are trained since young to enforce the peace, with most entering the various defence forces. We may revere the concept of diplomacy and peaceful reconciliation, but we are not so foolish or naïve as to believe that everyone believes the same."

The stone path they had been following culminated in a broad wooden arch spanning the largest of the inlet streams, and the pair stopped briefly at the top of the bridge to admire the single building, which alone already constituted a mansion in its own right. At first glance, it followed much of the Pallas building-style that Shirou had already observed, but even to his unexperienced eyes, he noticed the Greco-Roman influences in the architecture; in the form of marble archways and granite pillars, intertwined with softer Oriental wooden structures, that harmonized surprisingly well.

"Welcome to my humble abode, Shirou Emiya." The redhead didn't need to glance at the archer to hear the grin in his voice, "This shall be your new home for as long as you require it."

-oOo-

The next hour or so was a flurry of activity as Varus introduced Shirou to a staggering amount of family – and he could scarce keep track of faces, let alone names – the first of which was the Pallas Guardian's wife, a striking brunette heavy with pregnancy and possessing a stately air.

As they had entered through the main doors, the pair found the woman approaching at a pace that allowed her to barely retain her regality, which she promptly dropped as she almost leapt the final distance into Varus's arms. Cradling her gently, carefully conscious of her gravid belly, the two embraced tightly, each lost in the other's eyes.

Shirou just stood there, eyes averted and vaguely uncomfortable, feeling privy to a private moment; recognizing but not understanding the tumults of emotion roiling between the two.

Finally, in what felt like minutes later, the two separated but still only had eyes for each other.

The woman placed a tender hand on Varus's cheek, "I was so worried… we received the runner you sent warning about the alarms, but reports have been scarce ever since and no one seems to want to worry a pregnant woman. Idiots. The lack of news was horrible."

"Ah, I'm so sorry for worrying you, my love." His words gentle, before his expression turned thoughtful, "Arminius should have sent word about the false alarm, anyway, there wasn't a problem with the _Pit_. Instead, we got a visitor and a houseguest. Where are my manners, this is Shirou Emiya, dimension-traveler and now refugee of Pallas, with the full hospitality of the Temple." He gestured towards Shirou, who bowed in return. "Shirou, this is the love of my life, Marcella." She curtsied and tried to look welcoming, but something was clearly bothering her, then Varus placed a hand upon the gentle curve of her abdomen, "And this is our second child. Marcus, if it's a boy, and Julia, if it's a girl."

Varus turned back to his wife, "Marcella, you know you shouldn't be running about, with the baby almost due." It was rather humorous to see the aristocratic lady blush girlishly. "I'll show Shirou to his room, then I'll come find you?"

Shirou didn't want to interject, but he had an urgent calling to attend to, "Actually Varus-san, would it be possible for me to get access to a kitchen first?"

It was hard to tell who looked more sheepish, Varus for forgetting about Shirou's hunger or Shirou for what he knew was a little of an unusual request.

Marcella clapped her hands together, smiling widely, "I was just planning to head to the main kitchens, if you want, you could join us there?"

Shirou nodded quickly, his mood brightening a little at the prospect of cooking. The culinary arts had always soothed him; something about its flow and going through the motions of preparing food eased the teen's mind like almost nothing other could, and he was greatly in need of some serenity in his life.

-oOo-

The kitchen looked to be something out of a dream. Spacious and filled with equipment that were familiar yet subtly alien, it exuded a homey atmosphere and savory smells permeated the room.

There seemed to be a constant stream of people entering and leaving the area, often laden with food, and others sat chatting and eating at the tables scattered about. Shirou was eventually led to a free station in what felt like an eternity later, his way constantly buffeted by introductions to new people as Varus cheerfully and unconsciously-sadistically delayed Shirou's stress relief.

Even as Shirou was instructed to the usage of the peculiar cooking equipment – which turned out to be surprisingly easy and intuitive to use – Varus still would not leave him alone as he continued to be swamped with new faces.

Finally, there was a lull as Shirou abruptly stilled after familiarizing himself with his surroundings and setting his procured ingredients about him. Then he blurred into motion in what witnesses would later call a dance of pure chefmancy. Everyone around him paused in whatever they were doing as they were astounded by the sheer level of culinary skill that the red-haired teen possessed. Not a single motion was wasted as he whirled about with skillet and knife constantly in motion, seeming to almost be in multiple places at once, as dishes began to materialize at a mind-boggling pace. Pots and pans were juggled with stunning precision and timing, and Shirou's knife work was sublime. Every single cook halted their activity and the entire kitchen ground to a halt as not a soul wished to miss out on what could possibly be a once-in-a-lifetime display.

In less time than any would have thought possible, Shirou created a banquet fit for an emperor, creations of food so breathtaking in their scent and appearance, that tears could actually be seen glistening in every chefs' eye and drool filled every mouth. The amount of ingredients Shirou had purchased would have fallen far short for the incredible assortment of dishes, if not for the almost zombie-like motion of the various spectators, who had continued to stock the area around Shirou in mesmerized silence.

The teen hadn't noticed his audience, fully immersed in a cooking trance, where he could forget the events of the past day and imagine that he hadn't lost everything. But all too soon, as he completed his last dessert, he emerged from his stupor, feeling slightly better, before he was shocked by the thunderous applause that exploded about him.

Around him, people stood with starry eyes and toothy grins, as they inundated him with praise. Before any of them could speak, Varus stepped forward and his grin eclipsed them all, "I think I speak for everyone here when I ask if we may partake in this feast that you have so skillfully wrought."

Without hesitation, Shirou nodded his assent and before he could even blink, the most well-behaved pack of wild animals fell upon the heaped gastronomic delights and promptly descended into ecstasy.

Shirou gave a quick look about him and felt a glimmer of satisfaction as all about him, people of all ages gave their best effort to breath in solids with the most blissed out expression possible.

Fortunately, by design or accident he wasn't sure, but there was a small region that remained untouched by the feeding frenzy, and Shirou proceeded to finally satisfy his growling stomach. Only after he had finally quietened most of his hunger pangs did Varus continue his well-intentioned but ultimately foolish attempt to acquaint Shirou with his extensive family, and this continued until Shirou's feast was devoured to the last speck, which luckily occurred only after Shirou had eaten his fill.

The crowd finally dispersed after most of them had thanked Shirou profusely – every single one with a contented smile etched seemingly permanently into their features – and the kitchen was once again rife with activity as normal life resumed.

The sky was darkening, and the cooks appeared to be readying dinner for the majority of the family and staff, while servants began clearing up the mess.

Shirou moved to assist in the clean-up, but was immediately stopped by Marcella, "Mr Emiya, though we appreciate the thought, you don't need to help in the clearing up. I assure you that everyone here is already beyond pleased at what you've done so far, for all our vaunted Ionian hospitality, you've already put us to shame." She laughed off the beginnings of Shirou's apology, "I think you make a better Ionian than any of us so far. Now as your hosts, please allow us to make up a little of that disparity. Varus will show you to your room, which I hope will be to your liking. Dinner if you desire it, will be in an hour, though please don't feel obligated to join us. Once again, thank you for the magnificent meal, and good morrow."

She gave Shirou then Varus a serene smile, held her skirt to the side as she dipped slightly, then swept away, accompanied by a few of what seemed to be handmaidens.

Varus grinned slightly and nudged Shirou with his elbow, "I'm a lucky man aren't I. Anyway, I'm seriously astonished by your skills earlier …flabbergasted, and that doesn't happen often."

Seeing Shirou's agreeing nods, he scoffed a bit as he motioned for Shirou to follow him, "Don't go disagreeing with me all at once. Back to the point, what was that culinary sorcery… that heavenly cookery… that transcendent cuisine? I haven't seen the like, and I've eaten at some of _the_ premier restaurants throughout Ionia. You know what? You can stay here forever as long as I get the opportunity to taste your food again." He finished in a half-joking tone.

Shirou took the comment at face value, and answered with complete seriousness, "Thank you for the generous offer, and I will repay your hospitality, but I need to stand upon my own two feet and not rely on the kindness of others. I'll try not to take advantage of your home for too long."

Varus could recognize a stubborn streak when he saw one, and this one seemed unfathomably wide, though he tried to change Shirou's mind anyway, "You can't take advantage of what is freely given, but I will respect your choice. If you need any help, whether it be work-related or mundane, don't hesitate to ask."

"Don't worry, I believe I have already found my calling, at least for the present. This was the first time I've cooked for so many and the experience was…satisfying. I think I'll either find employment as a cook or if possible, open my own restaurant."

Varus immediately butted in, "I'll fund your restaurant!"

Shirou looked bewildered at the enthusiasm of his host, "I couldn't impose-"

"I insist! You need help settling in anyway, so this will be two birds with one stone. I'll assist you in the various trivialities like location and staff, while you provide the cooking."

The continuing assimilation of EMIYA's experiences had made Shirou more practical, so he agreed after some contemplation, "Alright, I'll agree, though I must warn you that this will be my first time cooking for actual customers, and I don't know how they'll react to my dishes."

Varus easily waved off Shirou's concerns as they stopped in front of an elegantly-carved wooden doorway set in corridor lined with other similar doors, "Here's your room. Just touch the crystal here and you'll be keyed in." Varus pointed toward the purple gem the size of a watch face inlayed at the center of the door. "Don't worry about getting lost, you see those crystals embedded everywhere and providing all the light? Just touch one of them, like so, and ask for your desired location." Varus moved over and pressed one with a finger then clearly enunciated, "Main library."

A single fleck of colorless light emerged from the crystal, then hovered at the side of Varus. "Just follow the sprite and it'll lead you to wherever you wish to go." He faced the bobbing sprite, "Cancel." And the speck of light disappeared. "That's how you dismiss it."

Shirou walked over to the door and lightly brushed its centered crystal, which immediately pulsed to life as it drew in a tiny bit of Od from him. When nothing further happened, Shirou gradually came down from the battle-readiness that he had leapt to, as Varus looked on a little bemused. It didn't escape Shirou's notice that while Varus hadn't prepped his ever-present bow, he had moved behind Shirou – the most difficult place for Shirou to attack – and he was carefully positioned such that there wasn't an impediment to him drawing his weapon.

Careful not to make any movement that could be constituted as hostile, Shirou pushed open the door and slowly walked into the darkened room.

"Light on." At Varus's command, the shadows were banished to completely reveal a room that suited the warm and comfortable atmosphere that the mansion exuded. Larger than his previous bedroom, it had what appeared to be attached bathroom and an entire wall was dominated by a huge comfortable-looking bed. A large desk with an entire shelf of books was set next to the door, and a grand window occupied the opposite wall.

"The lights are also controlled by the crystals, as are the water and heating. As before, just touch the most intuitively-located one for adjustment."

It wasn't home. Far from it, but it would do for now.

Shirou turned to Varus after he had finished studying the room, "I seem to be thanking you a lot, and I hope the repetition doesn't compromise my sincerity." Then he bowed deeply, "Really, thank you for all you've done for me."

Varus just smiled and nodded, recognizing the earnestness in his tone, then clapped Shirou on the shoulder as he spun to leave. Before passing through the doorway, with a single hand on the door poised to close it, the archer looked back over his shoulder and gave what seemed to be his trademark grin, "Don't mention it, glad to help. Ohh, and just in case you don't make it for dinner, breakfast will be in the dining hall." Then without further remark, he shut the door quietly and his footsteps slowly faded into the distance.

Giving the room another seemingly cursory glance, Shirou fired up a lone circuit and then used Structurally Grasping to comprehensively examine every single object within the room – a habit hailing from EMIYA. There wasn't anything resembling a spying device that he recognized, but the pervasive mystical crystal system appeared to be a potential spying tool, and one that he was unable to disable without creating a noticeable disturbance.

He placed his now-smaller bag of items bought from the Bazaar earlier today onto the fair-sized writing table, then sat down heavily onto the well-padded bed. Exhaustion abruptly weighed down on him, and his mind creaked like strained steel. Now that he was alone once more, did _their_ absence become undeniable, and it made him feel more tired than he had ever felt in his life. More than during the Fuyuki Fire. More than in any of his fights against Servants. Even more than when he had opposed Angra Mainyu himself.

As he sunk back into the deep plush mattress, the sword that was Shirou Emiya quaked with anguish; his inner world reflecting the suffering of his soul as an endless rain of weapons fell to pierce an infinitely expanding desolate field, while agonized gargantuan gears spun overhead.

-oOo-

* * *

**AN: Thanks for all the reviews for my first chapter, I tried to reply to all questions posed, though given that it was just the prologue alone, I understood that there weren't many plot-related ones. Anyway, it should be noted that this isn't Heaven's Feel Shirou, that's the closest route, but there are several key differences which I believe can already be seen; one of which is his lack of Sakura fixation. As the story progresses, more of the past will be revealed and hopefully that will adequately explain why and how Shirou has ended up as such.**

**Anyway, much of this chapter was world-building, and I hope that it was interesting. A sprinkling of action and intrigue, and I think most readers will already see hints and clues towards future developments (some obvious and some subtle). Not sure if I was too heavy-handed in some aspects. Also, you might notice the difference in some terminology between Shirou and the Ionians (Mr vs –san), and this will be explained in the future, though I think the more astute will already understand what's happening.**

**On another note, people might be wondering why Varus was so quick to offer Shirou the hospitality of his home, but the reasons were simple. First off, he and Agrippa don't believe that Shirou is a threat, and providing assistance to a dimension-displaced traveler is something most Ionians would be happy to offer. Just as importantly, as Varus has not-so-subtly been telling Shirou, his entire family is thoroughly versed in the arts of warfare. Heck, it's practically bred into them as far as it is possible for Ionians, so in effect, Shirou is now surrounded by well-trained jailors, whose loyalty to Varus (and by extension Ionia) cannot be doubted. There may be children involved, but Varus is in essence offering his extended family as a shield to Pallas in the event that Shirou does turn out to be an enemy, especially since they are far better suited than any other (even the young) to handle and subdue a potential insurgent. This also serves as a test of sorts to see how Shirou responds to Pallas, with hundreds of eyes and ears observing his behavior, any suspicious conduct would quickly be noted and safeguards put in place.**

**Please read and review (fanfic authors live off reviews after all), comments, suggestions and constructive criticism are welcome, though flames will be ignored.**


	3. Chapter 2: Unexpected Revelations

Disclaimer: Fate/Stay Night and League of Legends are the properties of Type-Moon and Riot Games respectively.

**Chapter 2: Unexpected Revelations**

He hadn't slept a wink. His tortured psyche wouldn't let him.

A dozen scenarios kept running through his head, taunting him with what ifs and elusive visions.

Could he have done something differently to alter the outcome of the Holy Grail War?

Had he truly put forward every ounce of effort he could have, done everything possible?

He didn't know which possibility was worse – having tried his best and so utterly failed or possessing the ability but not the will or luck to succeed.

Caught in an unending loop of recrimination and reflection, a prison of his own making, sleep always seemed beyond reach.

Trapped within the cool tranquil darkness, his mind lay mired within the past, dwelling on memories that shone so vividly in his mind, serving as a harsh reminder of what he had been unable to save.

It was with a feeling close to dread that the cogs of Shirou's mind relentlessly churned as he desperately sought out answers to questions that even he didn't fully recognize or understand.

There was a war being waged within – one raging between forces and ideas that were the sum of Shirou – though after hours that felt like weeks, the storm gradually died down and in the smog-filled battlefields on a barren plane; one belief stood above all.

-oOo-

As the first glimmers of sunlight heralded the coming of the new day, so too did resolute metallic eyes creak open, shining with the sheen of a thousand swords.

Shirou shifted with discomfort, he hadn't even changed out of his initial attire before collapsing, and his clothing along with the surrounding sheets were soaked in sweat. With his inner turmoil allayed for the time being, more mundane issues were now brought to the fore.

He swung himself out of the comfortable mattress, which had unfortunately failed in its purpose, then quickly shrugged out of his unsuitable sleepwear, half-consciously folding and leaving them on the wooden floor. His skin sticky with half-dried perspiration, the bathroom couldn't have looked more inviting.

His mind empty of other thoughts, the only thing on Shirou's mind was a quick shower then a long hot soak. Despite or maybe because of his many motionless hours, exhaustion weighed heavily on him. He hadn't even checked out his room's bathroom the day before, and fortunate for him, it was fully-stocked with a myriad of strange soaps and fragrant liquids.

Single-mindedly heading for what he assumed to be the bathing area; a slightly indented area with a showerhead affixed around waist-height next to a decently sized bathtub. He slumped tiredly onto the conveniently located stool, then lightly brushed the aqua crystal embedded in the wall next to the showerhead.

Expecting a spray of water, it actually took a few moments for Shirou to notice that nothing had happened. His mind wandering back to Varus' quick instructions the day before, Shirou tried again with a tentative mutter, "Water?"

This time his actions were greeted with the anticipated water, but his lack of attention to the details of his surroundings had cost him. With a hiss of discomfort, icy water washed over his body, eliciting a lightning-quick response as Shirou instinctively grabbed the showerhead and directed the freezing water into the tub, shivering all the while.

Only now spotting the prominent porcelain knob directly below the activating crystal, Shirou twisted its indicator away from the bluest portion of its arcing display and well into the red region. Testing its temperature cautiously, he aimed the showerhead back at himself then luxuriated in the near-scalding waters.

Blinking water out of his eyes, Shirou's attentions turned to his bandaged right arm. As he slowly unwrapped the soaked dressing, extensive freshly-healed wounds littering his arm were revealed. Varus' concentrated attack the day before had actually managed to completely destroy two layers of Rho Aias – no mean feat – and damage to the Noble Phantasm had the unfortunate effect of echoing itself on its user.

What came as a surprise to Shirou was how far along was the healing process; the pale tender flesh that marked where his injuries had been certainly didn't appear a day old. Was this some reflection of his apparent merger with Archer's arm? Servants had accelerated healing after all, though he'd never heard of anything even vaguely resembling his circumstances.

Still, he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, it wasn't anywhere near as quick as Avalon, but any degree of accelerated healing was always welcome.

Shirou's ablutions came to a slight hitch as he reached for the dispensers of what he assumed to be soap and miscellaneous toiletries. They were labelled, but the words were completely indecipherable. Luckily, through foresight or accident, the labels also contained descriptive illustrations and Shirou was able to finishing cleansing his body of its accumulated muck.

He then reached over to the identical crystal above the bathtub nozzle, adjusting the temperature knob as he activated the water flow. Continuing to bask in his shower as the bathtub filled, Shirou steadfastly kept his mind clear of thought.

With the tub steaming and filled almost to its brim, Shirou shut off the shower then sank into the near-painful waters and savored the heat as it soaked into aching muscles and strained tendon. The stresses of the night hadn't left his body untouched, and it showed beyond the weariness in his features.

Relaxing into the contoured niche of the bath, Shirou started to drift and before he knew it, his mind knew no more.

-oOo-

Shirou was awoken by the sunbeams shining through the toilet's high window. With no way to tell the time, the teen was left clueless as to how long he'd napped for, though the crick in his neck told him that it couldn't have been short. Curiously, the bath waters hadn't cooled significantly, though they were now merely warm rather than threatening to sear skin from flesh.

The redhead sat up slowly, then stretched languorously, absent-mindedly noting his pruned flesh from staying immersed for so long. Standing up, he unplugged the bathtub, then dried himself using a towel from the wall-mounted rack.

Hanging the towel back up, Shirou walked over to the wall-length mirror and observed himself carefully. He wasn't one to indulge in self-admiration, and this time was no different, instead his eyes scrutinized his body carefully, searching for the various marks of his life, yet finding none.

The dimension-displaced refugee felt a moment of nausea then, as his mind's eye superimposed two more images over his own, and neither fitted him. His was a body empty of the blemishes of time and living, and it showed.

Idly, Shirou's hand rose to rub at his chest where a grotesque vaguely circular ridge of scar-tissue used to be. It had been the memento of a death stroke before, yet he had been strangely attached to it: It had been a hallmark of the change in his life, a milestone of sorts for the life-altering events that had followed. Now it was gone, along with everything he had ever known, and only he remained, once again walking alone and leaving everyone behind.

He stilled, his mind filled with fire.

The first Fuyuki Fire had incinerated the existence that came before Shirou Emiya, the second had finished the job.

No.

This time was different.

Everything he had known before the first Fuyuki Fire had been erased, even his very identity had been scorched away, leaving nothing but a husk. But this time…this time he remembered. It would be up to him to preserve their memories and…live on.

-oOo-

"Shirou! Nice to see you up and about. We thought you'd never leave your room," Varus laughed as he approached auburn-haired teen. "You arrived just in time for lunch, fortuitous timing indeed."

The brunet was decked out once again in white and blue, colors Shirou was rapidly coming to associate with the Quinctilius family, and his welcome seemed to have attracted the attentions of almost everyone else in the dining hall.

Shirou smiled his own greeting and was waved over by the cheerful Quinctilius heir, "Come, come. My family's all here and they've been wanting to meet you."

The pair walked back over to the largest table, tracked by nearly every eye in the hall, though none of the attention seemed negative. There was a constant murmuring, but Shirou tuned them out with a slight blush after getting the gist of the discussions.

The table was decked with foodstuff, almost brimming with savory meats and steaming vegetables, the cooks had gone all-out after Shirou's display, and it showed.

Around two score people were seated at the table, though Varus led him to its head where a smaller group were waiting for them.

At the head of the table sat a matronly woman who exuded an aristocratic air softened by faint smile lines, her storm-grey eyes, the same hue as Varus' own, tracked their passage toward them with eagle-like intensity and Shirou had no doubt that this was the Quinctilius matriarch. Seated next to her was a large man with salt and pepper hair, clad in bronzed armor, radiating a sense of tension that didn't seem directed at anyone. On the opposite side of the table sat Varus' wife, Marcella, and a young boy, barely older than a toddler, and Shirou couldn't recall if the child had been part of the group that had swarmed them yesterday.

Varus motioned toward them, "Shirou, this is my family." He then pointed them out in turn, "My beautiful mother, Claudia. My uncle, Tiberius. You've met my lovely wife, Marcella, and this is our rambunctious terror, Marcus." His final words provoking a blown raspberry from the little tyke.

Shirou smiled and nodded as he was introduced, and he couldn't help but notice that everyone's gazes still remained fixed upon their gathering.

With their introductions done, Varus sat down next to his wife and gestured toward the empty chair next to his uncle, "I'm sure you're hungry, so don't stand on ceremony, just grab whatever food catches your fancy and dig in."

As Shirou sat down into the high-backed chair and cautiously ladled some of the dishes onto his plate, it seemed to send a signal to everyone else in the room as they proceeded to continue their meal.

The food was quite unlike any he'd eaten before, though there were a few dishes he faintly recognized here and there. Overall though, it certainly inspired his palate and his expression turned thoughtful as he unconsciously analyzed their taste and composition even as he enjoyed his meal.

There was some easy banter between the family, though nothing was aimed at Shirou, at least not before he had gotten several bites in and assuaged a little of his hunger.

"So Shirou, would you mind telling us about your world?" Claudia asked, a hint of military bearing leaking through.

He took a moment to swallow, considering his answer, "It's…very different from here. For one; Magecraft isn't commonplace at all."

Claudia looked a little surprised, "No magic? What do you use instead then?"

"Technology."

"Really? So your world doesn't use any magic? Even Piltover and Zaun integrate the two for their techmaturgy."

'_Piltover? Zaun? Techmaturgy?'_

"Yes, technology does for my world, what Thaumaturgy appears to do for yours." Before anyone else could interject, Shirou continued, "What exactly are Piltover, Zaun and techmaturgy by the way?"

It was Tiberius who answered, his voice a brassy rumble and its military cadence unmistakable, "Piltover and Zaun are the two leading nations in techmaturgy, also known as hextech. They're both located in the north-eastern region of Valoran, almost directly west of Ionia. Piltover is usually likened to be the nobler scientific community, while Zaun tends to be more unscrupulous and possessing of flexible morality." In a tone that brokered no joking he continued, "I'd advise you to be wary of Zaunites, they'd experiment on their own mothers if it meant advancing their sciences. As for techmaturgy, it's basically the mixing of technology and magic in the advancement of both."

"So these two countries, are they at odds with each other?" Shirou asked tentatively.

Claudia shot a look at Tiberius as she answered, "Officially, they enjoy friendly competition and are cordial rivals."

"And unofficially?"

"They are at war," Claudia said succinctly, she continued, her tone unflinching, "It's currently restricted to sabotage and underground movements, but the signs are there."

It was a lot to take in and while the information was welcome, Shirou wondered why they were so free with their intelligence, this wasn't knowledge usually shared amongst near-strangers. He felt like Claudia was leading him with her questions and answers, but to what, he wasn't sure.

"What are the implications?" He threw out a guess.

The Quinctilius matriarch looked at him shrewdly, "Zaun and Piltover stand on opposite sides, and each favor one of the two most prominent factions on Valoran: Noxus and Demacia respectively. Each side seeks to gather power to combat the other, and for now, neither is confident enough in their strength over the other to openly go to war. For now, both factions are rallying their allies and they are not content to leave the other countries neutral in their conflict."

Shirou nodded, his experiences as EMIYA had seen such a scenario played out all too many times.

"Bandle and Bilgewater have already thrown their support behind either of the two factions, so their strength remains relatively even. But this leaves Ionia as one of the dwindling neutral powers left on Runeterra, and pressures are mounting for us to choose a side, despite our wishes for peace."

Not wanting to offer an opinion, but instinctively sensing the stately woman's wishes for such, Shirou played the devil's advocate, "Why don't you back Demacia then? Wouldn't it be the obvious choice given the opposing side? It can't be that bad, can it?"

"Demacia…values justice above all. But it is their own brand of justice, though they hold themselves to even stricter standards than towards outsiders. It is…stifling and intolerant, and not something Ionia can proudly support. To do so, would be to betray our own ideals."

Her last words resonated within him as he stiffened. Hoping that no one had noticed and scrambling for something to cover his lapse, Shirou said, "I believe Varus-san mentioned something about a…League?"

Claudia scoffed, an image discordant with her initial prim atmosphere, "The League is ineffective. It's only as powerful as its Champions and Summoners will it to be, and most of its members already have a vested interest in the conflict."

"What is the League exactly?"

"It stands for the League of Legends…a little pretentious really. And it's supposed to serve as a mediating body for the political landscape of Runeterra. It totes itself as the gathering of the movers and shakers of the world, individuals of sufficient power and influence that their will contributes to the stability and instability of Runeterra."

It sounded a little like the United Nations, an admirable concept that fell short in practice due to political leanings and the withholding of power.

"What do the terms Champion and Summoner refer to?" Absently Shirou noticed Varus and Marcella's child, Marcus, slip away after finishing his meal, clearly bored from the grown-up discussion.

Claudia watched her grandchild leave, then turned back to Shirou, "Champions and Summoners are exceptional individuals who have fulfilled the requirements to join the League of Legends. They must possess incomparable qualities and have distinguished themselves beyond shadow of doubt. Most of these extraordinary beings tend to already be legends in their own right or in the making, recognized throughout the world, thus the name."

A chill went down Shirou's spine, Claudia didn't seem like one to exaggerate, and her words painted an acutely disquieting picture, it hadn't been a conscious decision on her part, but her chosen words couldn't have been more unsettling.

_Legends_. It wasn't much of a leap in logic for the word to be associated with _Heroes_. He didn't know how these Legends would compare with the avatars from the Throne of Heroes. But Shirou had already been embroiled in a war that had contained just 8 of humanity's best; and just the collateral damage had been devastating.

What was worse, judging from Claudia's tone, it sounded like the League had access to a lot more than 8 Legends, and Shirou's mind shied away from imagining the aftermath of such a conflict. If there was even an aftermath.

Their region of the table had remained quiet besides for the sounds of eating while Shirou obviously contemplated Claudia's words, then he broke the silence, "What are the differences between Champions and Summoners?"

There were a few unreadable looks passed between the Quinctilius family members, then Tiberius spoke, "Those are the roles that the Legends within the League fall into: Champions are the more combat-oriented individuals, or might I say more suited for frontline battle. Summoners on the other hand tend to be more research based or whose powers are more suited off the battlefield, though individuals can hold both titles."

"Why the names though, I can guess the reasoning behind 'Champion', but why 'Summoner'?"

"For you to understand the meaning behind their names, you have to know their origin. The League is not just a mediator; it also serves as a last resort before open war. Instead of nations sending armies to settle their perceived slights, they can nominate Champions to defend their cause on the Fields of Justice. We talked earlier about Champions having vested interests? Well, this is where it comes into play. The opposing parties will nominate the Champions who have volunteered their services – usually their own countrymen and allies – and after a convoluted negotiation process, 5 champions on each side meet in an arena to resolve the conflict, with the agreed upon stakes going to the victor."

Legendary Heroes battling for a prize? Sounds familiar. Though there were obvious differences.

"Anyway, to cut a long story short, Summoners were the ones who created the avatars for the Champions to control on the Fields of Justice, thus allowing the battles to remain without bloodshed, in theory ensuring that no blood grudges would be created." Tiberius continued, the tension surrounding him, which had ramped down, returning with full force, "Unfortunately, with a large proportion of Champions uninterested in supporting peace talks, it seems unlikely that either side will even be willing to settle for a resolution in the Fields."

"What about Ionia's own Champions? Didn't Varus-san mention something about a Karma assisting in the arbitrating?"

"_Duchess_ Karma," Tiberius said with slight emphasis, "Has travelled to Valoran to volunteer her services as adjudicator, but…Ionia doesn't have any Champions. The Elders chose not to join the League-"

"What!" Shirou couldn't stop his outburst. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "Tiberius-san, I apologize for my interruption, but why hasn't Ionia joined the League. If only to lend its voice to be heard?"

This time it was Claudia who answered with a tinge of melancholy, "Ionia maintains itself to be impartial in all aspects of Valoran's politics. To join the League would be to contribute to the political climate and lose our stance of neutrality."

"But that's ridiculous," Shirou couldn't seem to stop his mouth, he was normally more polite than this, yet his natural impulses had changed, "The forces on Valoran aren't going to forget or ignore you just because you keep insisting that you stand impartial. If you're not willing to represent your own interests, then how can you expect others to do so?" His voice was rising, both in volume and passion, "You say you prize peace. But rather than putting forth all effort in pursuit of it, you satisfy yourself with middling resolve. Your country has sent your Karma and that's enough," Scorn dripped from his words, "Why don't you stop your half-efforts and do something!"

His tirade had possessed a quality, a sincerity that couldn't be denied, and no one had been able to interrupt while it had been in progress. Finally, in the hush that came after, both Claudia and Tiberius gave what seemed to be a nod of approval to Varus, who smiled a little and said simply, "I agree."

Shirou was shocked at the sudden turn around, "Then what was with all that earlier?"

"Call it a quirk of the family, but we usually want to take some measure of our guests. And before you ask, yes, you passed. With flying colors I might add."

The redhead had been doing the mental equivalent of digging in his heels, so changing gears so quickly had thrown him off, "But what your mother's spiel about non-interference and neutrality?"

Varus laughed cheerily, though there was a hint of his mother and uncle in his manner, "We may revere peace and balance, but we're not naïve as to believe that others think the same way. That's why my father, Nero, the governing Elder of Galrin, isn't here at our family gathering. He's back in the Quinctilius family manor, doing what he can to shore up Galrin's defenses. Unfortunately, he's limited in his preparations given the lack of support from the other Elders."

Claudia interjected, "That's not to say we have no allies, and they are certainly not lying on their laurels. The Assembly of Elder might not have decided to join the League, but we are not oblivious to its machinations." Then in a sudden change of subject, Claudia grinned rather mischievously, "And I'm glad to see that you seem to approve of our chefs."

A little confused, Shirou looked down at his empty plate and then took in the bare platters around him. Throughout their discussion, Shirou had unconsciously continued his meal – possibly another remnant of EMIYA's experiences – and the sheer amount he'd managed to put away rivalled Servant portions.

With a faint feeling of embarrassment, Shirou gave a seated half-bow, "I apologize for my unthinking behavior, I hope this doesn't cause any problems. Also, thank you for the meal, and my compliments to the chefs."

Varus' mother was quick to wave off Shirou's apology, "No, no. It was no problem at all. Actually, I think your words just might make quite a few people's day. You made quite the impression yesterday. There's not a person in the household who hasn't heard of you now."

Varus was quick to butt in, "Yea, your banquet has already reached legendary proportions; your name has reached Quinctiliuses from all corners of Ionia. Rest assured that your restaurant will have no shortage of customers."

There was a brief moment of silence as members of the Quinctilius family pretending not to be eavesdropping took in Varus' words, then bedlam erupted as many jumped up and down in joy, while others approached Shirou to boisterously pledge to be his first and most frequent customers.

Shirou just looked a little shell-shocked at the response; it hadn't been news to him but he had thought them to be exaggerations. Now he was clearly being proven wrong as person after person shook his hand enthusiastically, before Varus moved to liberate Shirou from his ardent fans.

Outside the dining hall, in the surprising quiet of the corridor – passing the threshold appeared to have cut down on the noise dramatically – Varus and Shirou discussed their plans for the day. Shirou wanted to conduct some research regarding the upkeep, various requirements and location of his potential restaurant, but Varus was quick to cut in, insisting to Shirou that he'd handle those issues and that Shirou simply had to vet the choices later. Instead, there was a more pressing issue as the Pallas council had requested a meeting with Shirou again.

There was no hesitation in Shirou's acquiescence, he had predicted that such an occurrence was likely, and he had a few questions of his own for them anyway.

The stroll out of the Quinctilius home was leisurely and the banter was casual and easy as Varus answered Shirou's questions about the world he had found himself in.

"The known world is separated into several regions. There's the super-continent, Valoran, which contains the majority of nations, but explaining its geography and layout is difficult without a map, so I won't even try." He waved rather flippantly at this, "There're multiple smaller ones, of course the foremost being Ionia, which lies to the north-east of Valoran. Ionia, itself comprises of the Ionian mainland, and three main subsidiary islands: Galrin to the south, Shon-Xan to the south-east and Tenmon to the north-west. There're many smaller islands, but there's too many to recall."

Shirou walked along silently, silently committing everything to memory and nodding occasionally to show his continued attention, this was information every person on Runeterra should know, and his lack of knowledge would make him stick out like a sore thumb.

"To our south, across the Guardian Sea, lies Bilgewater," Varus fairly spat the name. "It's a large archipelago nation, and owner of the strongest 'navy' on Runeterra." Shirou could hear the clear disdain in Varus' voice. "Their main landmass consists of 3 large islands, and their capital is a huge port on Blue Flame Island. There's an extensive pirate element sheltering in the sea of islands consisting of Bilgewater. They deny it, the bastards, but they tacitly support the piracy of non-Bilgewater ships and the pillaging of coastal areas. Galrin and Shon-Xan both have a horrible history of fending off the almost constant raids by Bilgewater privateers. Heck, that's one of the reasons why we Quinctiliuses made a name for ourselves."

Varus paused and looked a little apprehensive, "The last major region is called the Shadow Isles. It stands alone, far to the west of Valoran, and it has barely even been charted. A land constantly shrouded in mist, honestly, not much is known about it, not even its true size. The perpetual fog that blankets the region make navigating it near impossible, add in its undead population, and even Ezreal is cautious about exploring the place. Frankly, it unsettles the heck out of me and the entities that wander out from there are ones you should steer clear off."

The brunet saw the clear question in Shirou's eyes and exhaled noisily, "Every single _thing_ that has crossed the Conqueror's Sea from the Shadow Isles have unilaterally pursued membership into the League and been accepted. Their purpose is unknown and they're certainly not talking. Some of them are monsters… walking disasters, devastation follows in their wake," Varus' face had turned blank, hiding all emotion.

Shirou didn't want to push, but a lack of information was dangerous, and this seemed particularly so, "Walking disasters? …What did they do to deserve such a designation?"

"One of the worst calls itself Hecarim; the public refer to it as the Shadow of War, and it's revoltingly appropriate. The first records of Hecarim place its landing somewhere in the north-western region of Valoran, where it proceeded to cut a swath down the Serpentine River and all the way to the Institute of War, the headquarters of the League. Its journey started in the massacre of nearly a dozen northern-barbarian tribes, then went on to butcher every river town that got in its path and most famously the complete annihilation of all the troops engaged in one of the skirmishes between Demacia and Noxus. In the span of just a single month, its death count was more than a _hundred_ thousand civilians and another twenty thousand or so troops. That _thing_ went up against two armies and emerged the victor, and according to him, they were all 'just in the way'."

"You know the worst part?" Varus' voice was harder than Shirou had ever heard it. "If you trace Hecarim's path, you'd find it practically a straight line. That monster wasn't joking. All those people slaughtered. They really were just in its way."

Varus took a deep breath as Shirou's mind reeled at the numbers, when Varus had mentioned the undead, he had braced himself but this surpassed his worst expectations. This Hecarim sounded like a Dead Apostle Ancestor unleashed; immensely powerful vampires of his world who made up their aristocracy of sorts. Even at their worst, the outbreaks of 'mere' Dead Apostles resulted in the deaths of thousands, almost never exceeding four figures.

Hecarim's death toll… it wasn't the highest he'd encountered, but if what Varus was telling him was true, and this was all incidental damage. Then Hecarim was a threat to humanity too dangerous to be ignored and he…

No. He wasn't an Ally of Justice. He had forsaken and been forsaken by his ideals. Such decisions could not be taken back.

He would live, and live as Shirou Emiya; the testament to the lives of those who had fallen.

-oOo-

They reached and passed the estate gates minutes later, Varus had waited for further questions, but Shirou hadn't seemed inclined to do so. Instead, their talk had turned to more benign topics as Shirou had steered his questions back to Ionia and Pallas, an area that Varus had taken to with great gusto.

"Ionia is made up of eighteen provinces; the foremost being our principle province, Heikou. Its capital is the Placidium, noted to be second in beauty only to Pallas. One thing our nation is famous for, besides our vaunted diplomacy, is our martial arts. You'd be surprised how many incredible forms of martial arts have been created in the pursuit of spiritual enlightenment."

"Oh, so Varus-san, are you a martial artist as well?"

"Me? I'm well-versed in my family's own brand of unarmed and armed fighting styles, though of course I specialize in the bow. In all modesty, you'll never find better."

Something rose up within Shirou then, it was small and foreign, and he easily dismissed it, "So your family has its own martial art?"

"Yup, though its roots were far more mundane than something like seeking enlightenment," Varus chuckled, "It just sort of emerged in my ancestors' constant clashes with pirates and brigands. Survival was a huge motivating factor and our style was refined in all the raids and attacks. Before you ask, most martial art styles are named after their founding family, so you can easily guess the name of my family style. Anyway, as my family established itself as being more combat-inclined, surrounding towns hired our members as guards and gradually we were acknowledged as the family in-charge of most of the defenses of what would become Galrin."

"So that's why your family base is there?"

"Pretty much, that's also why I came to Crius forty years ago to get out from under the shadow of the Quinctilius name, and I think I've done well so far."

Shirou was nodding along when something Varus had said occurred to him, "Wait, you came here forty years ago?" Seeing Varus' affirmative look, he continued, "Then how old are you now?"

Varus looked rather puzzled at Shirou, before laughing a bit, "Shirou, don't you know it's not polite to ask a man his age?" The joke seemed to pass right over Shirou's head, if his serious expression was anything to judge by, "I'm sixty-three and still in the spring of my youth." He thumped his chest cheerily, "Why? How old did you think I was?"

Shirou was a little at a loss for words, he hadn't thought about the implications of Magecraft being so proliferate in the world. He'd assumed that it had simply taken the place of technology, but he was now being proved thoroughly wrong. The magi in his old world were long-lived and their life-spans often extended into the centuries, so it shouldn't have been unexpected for humans of this world to be far more long-lived than he was used to.

"Maybe in your late twenties?" Shirou didn't even try to lie, even as EMIYA, he'd never been adept at falsehoods, and his experiences were telling him that Varus wouldn't be deceived for even a second.

"What? Did I look that inexperienced to you?" Varus looked at Shirou in mock outrage, then continued before Shirou could respond, "Eh, I assume that either the life-spans or growth cycles in your old world are different from ours, so don't worry."

It was another stark reminder of his companion's astute nature and Shirou had a nagging feeling that the archer would have fit in quite easily with the Legends of the League.

"In my old world, normal people are lucky to reach the ripe old age of a hundred," Shirou explained anyway.

Once again the piercing gleam in Varus' eyes appeared, "So what about the not-so-normal people?"

Shirou didn't hesitate as he answered, "Those count their lives in the centuries, if not more. What about Runeterra?"

"Hard to say, life-expectancy seems to range anywhere from over a hundred years to multiple millennia. There's actually a Wuju-style practitioner who's supposed to be its founding master and said to have lived since the birth of Ionia. That'd make him at least eleven thousand years old." Varus paused for dramatic effect, "Then again, he could just be senile."

Intel on a place's fighting styles and tactics was always valuable and Shirou couldn't stop his impulse to learn more, "So could his longevity be linked to his martial art, this Wuju-style?"

"Well…it's possible, his disciples, and there are a lot of them, do seem on the longer-lived of the spectrum. There's even a sect in Pallas and the master there is several millennia old. You'll probably see him later since he's on the council."

Shirou filed that info away for later, a martial art that had survived and thrived for several thousand years would be worth looking into, he might not be a Hero of Justice, but this world was turning out to be way more dangerous than his old one, and he would not stand by and stagnate.

"Varus-san, you mentioned earlier that Ionia is home to many incredible martial arts, what others are there?"

Something indecipherable flashed across Varus' face and Shirou wondered if he'd hit some hidden pitfall, but Varus just continued jauntily, "Quite possibly the most famous is the Hiten-style of the famed Elder Lito. It is said that blades breathe in his grasp and I was privileged to witness the feat with my own two eyes." Varus' look of awe as his eyes grew distant couldn't be faked, "His martial demonstration was breathtakingly beautiful, there was a oneness with his swords that was so transcendent, they almost seemed to float on air. It wasn't grace or even skill; words just fail to describe the sheer encompassing quality that was Elder Lito's display. People come from all over the world for even a mere glimpse and I can't blame them."

"Is the Hiten-style as widespread as the Wuju-style?"

"Oh, no. Elder Lito's disciples are few and far between. He almost never takes on students, though it doesn't stop people from trying."

"So is there a…sect in Pallas?"

Varus looked at Shirou from a corner of his eye, "You're interested in learning these martial arts." It was a statement not a question.

"Yes."

"Ambitious…I recall you use two swords, trying to expand on your skills?"

Shirou shrugged, there was no point in denying it, so he settled on a half-truth, "It seems like the prudent thing to do, with the state of Runeterra as it is."

Varus looked to reply but suddenly his presence seemed to swell as his eyes blazed with golden light. Shirou was instantly on his guard, the imaginary hammer in his head cocked, he didn't know what was going on and he didn't think Varus intended him harm, but he would stand ready nonetheless.

The Pallas Guardian's already impressive aura had expanded in an instant, almost exploding outwards in its rapidity to encompass a continuously increasing area. There had been a constant impression of not exactly being watched, but a sense of consciousness of his movements ever since the tunnel from the _Pit_, but now that feeling multiplied several times over.

Shirou's mystic senses manifested itself as a sort of synesthesia – interpreting foreign Prana and Magecraft as scents – and this display carried with it a curious trace of clear morning sunlight.

It was barely perceptible but Varus appeared to be surrounding by a faint nimbus of light, which on closer inspection revealed itself to be the convergence of countless glowing filaments, the strands stretching forth from all over the city.

Shirou could scarcely believe it, but it looked like Varus was tapped into the warding system of the entire city of Pallas; definite proof that his status as Guardian of Pallas was no overstatement.

Varus' large metallic bow seemed to almost phase into existence within his grasp, but it came as no surprise to Shirou that the archer hadn't been unarmed. He had already glimpsed Varus' weapon the day before, and the instant he had done so, Varus' signature weapon and all its intricacies had already been laid bare – The trick to the bow's appearance was the ornate grey and brass gauntlet which possessed a similar aesthetic to the weapon. They were in fact a single linked artifact, with the gauntlet allowing for the manifestation of the bow.

The Pallas Guardian turned his bow skyward, drawing back its luminous bowstring in the same movement. At full draw, a familiar radiant projectile coalesced from nothing to nock itself on the bowstring and just before Varus loosed his glowing arrow, Shirou managed to make out hazily glowing chains spiraling down the arrow's shaft.

There was a single arcing trail of light, then Varus' presence abruptly _folded_ itself back as the golden light faded from his eyes and he put away his bow. Shirou's mystic senses continued to follow the shot as it impacted an individual about two kilometers away and then seemed to unfold around its target, immobilizing it.

Turning back to Shirou, the man smiled sheepishly as if he hadn't done anything of significance, "Sorry, there was an armed robbery in progress and I had to intervene. Don't want to infringe on the peacekeepers, but there wasn't any nearby so I thought it best to step in."

"You're linked into the wards of Pallas aren't you, not just the temple," Shirou tentatively probed, this was defensively-pertinent information and he didn't want to push Varus.

It seemed like his caution wasn't warranted as Varus answered without delay, "Indeed I am. My title isn't just for show you know."

Shirou agreed with Varus' statement silently; his access to the powerful wards of the city – and its comprehensive surveillance coverage – combined with his prodigious skill at the bow, made for an unavoidable threat to any interloper. The offensive attacks he'd exhibited yesterday were impressive, at least verging on Servant-level if the damage to Rho Aias was anything to go by, and the charged blast that had resembled the launching of a miniature sun – the scent of Varus' power was definitely appropriate – hadn't even been unleashed at its full potency.

In addition, the arrow that had just been loosed had possessed the ability to restrain its target, and Shirou could certainly recall the inhuman speed at which Varus had been able to loose his attacks yesterday, it wasn't any stretch of the imagination to envision the two aspects joined, allowing for a large-scale incapacitation of targets. Used in conjunction with his mystic reconnaissance, Varus quite literally possessed the ability to singlehandedly slow if not outright stop an extensive assault on Pallas.

One of the few real limitations Shirou could foresee was Varus' range and the ability of his enemies to intercept or dodge the projectiles. As Shirou's thoughts continued to analyze Varus and his weapon's capabilities, he increasingly likened the elaborate brass bow to his world's Noble Phantasms – the weapons of Heroic Spirits – and the connotations disturbed him.

With individuals like Varus walking around, Shirou had the increasing suspicion that Runeterra's version of the Age of Gods had never ended.

-oOo-

The trek back up the immaculately manicured hillside to the Temple of Pallas did nothing to sooth Shirou's troubled mind. Varus had continued to chat amiably with the teen, and Shirou did his best to reciprocate, but his heart wasn't in it.

A constant discordant thought kept hammering itself at Shirou's mind; this was a world stuck in the Age of Divinity, where monsters and heroes walked the earth.

The duo passed through the serene corridors of the temple filled with quietly discussing monks and the occasional pair of guards; given that the temple also functioned as the governing center of the city, it wasn't unexpected to see that there was a large complement of Ionian troops stationed there at any one time.

Once again tracing their way back to the council chamber's double-doors, they were halted by a wizened old nun, bent over with age yet filled with a discernable vibrancy.

"Greetings Varus, Guardian of Pallas and Shirou Emiya, our honored guest from another world, my name is Shizuka Hisui. The council is currently convening with another honored visitor. Please wait a moment while they finish," She bowed low, gesturing to a furnished alcove to the side, where a pot of tea lay steaming.

Their wait was short, they had barely finished nursing their first cup when the guards posted at the doors opened wide the chamber entrance and the nun tottered over to inform them that the council would see them now.

The council chambers were just as Shirou had remembered it, fragrant with incense and its mystic protections were as formidable as ever. There were fewer council members present than the day before, six seats lay empty though Elder Agrippa and seven other councilors were in attendance, including the Councilor Augustus.

Agrippa smiled as the pair entered, "Welcome back Shirou Emiya, I hope Pallas has been treating you well?" At the same time, she offered a cordial greeting to Varus.

He bowed to the Elder, "Thank you Elder Agrippa, the hospitality of Ionia has been amazing and the people of Pallas have been unbelievably accommodating, I am truly humbled by the welcome Pallas," Shirou turned to Varus, "And the Quinctilius family have presented me."

The Elder beamed and for a moment the years seemed to sluice off her, "Ohh, you are very much welcome. Anyway, we have enough time for pleasantries later. The reason why we requested your presence today was because we managed to get hold of a fitting guide for you. Varus is fine and all," She laughed congenially, taking any possible edge off the jibe, "But he is hardly the most appropriate person to teach you about Runeterra."

Agrippa gestured to the side, and Shirou was shocked to discover a young woman standing scarcely a few steps away from him, seemingly completely innocuous. He hadn't noticed her proximity at all and it was only now that the Elder had pointed her out, did the woman's presence seem obvious.

"This generous young lady has volunteered to be your guide and teacher during your stay with us, and I assure you that her knowledge is impeccable."

The dark-haired beauty stepped forward, her stride flawlessly balanced, "It's nice to meet you, Mr Emiya."

"My name is Akali Kagerou."

-oOo-

* * *

**AN:**** Sorry about the delay, I'm far from the fastest writer and I rewrote many portions of this chapter way too many times. I'm still not happy with certain parts, with Shirou's inner turmoil at the beginning of the chapter standing out the most.**

**Thanks for all the great reviews; I try to reply when I have the time though don't expect any major spoilers from my responses.**

**Anyway, this chapter doesn't really have any action, I'm still mostly in the world-building and character development phase so don't expect too many explosions or blood spilling in the upcoming chapters. **

**I try to show not tell, and there are quite a few more subtle but important details scattered about my chapters (as well as easter eggs), hopefully I'm not being too heavy-handed with some of my hints, haha. Also, there'll be quite a few instances where a question or detail is raised, only for its answer to be raised in the future, so feel free to speculate and jump to conclusions.**

**Some people have been asking who exactly would be appearing in upcoming chapters and I think it's become obvious.**

**On another note, I found it interesting that both ancient Roman and Japanese cultures have one thing in common when it comes to their ablutions, they both love their baths. With Ionia being a curious mix of Oriental and Roman influences, I found that they surprisingly did have some details in common, and it was fun to craft more of Ionia.**

**Please read and ****review**** (fanfic authors live off reviews after all)****, ****comments, suggestions and constructive criticism are welcome, though flames will be ignored.**


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